Harry and Draco Chronicles
by kerry911
Summary: SLASH, Prequel to "Life with Draco." Explores the first developments of Harry and Draco's romance, the trials the couple have to overcome to be together and Draco's fight to just be alive.
1. That Night

Chapter 1: That Night  
The snow fell quickly across the grounds, covering the lake with a thin film of ice that caused it to sparkle and gleam, even in the dead of night. But most of the students were gone from Hogwarts and could not enjoy the delicious view; they surely would have pressed their faces against the windows of their dorms rooms to eye the wintry splendor of Mother Nature. The halls of the grand castle lay barren except for the poltergeist that roomed the corridors for a bit of late night mischief. The place was quite a sight to beheld, as the house-elves had outdone themselves decorating it for the few students who stayed behind during the Christmas break. The house-elves were now in the kitchen setting up the menu for the next day's feast - one of them humming to himself as he scurried around the place, his feet bedecked with the fluorescent socks Harry had given him earlier that day.   
  
As everyone else lay sleep, dreaming of the delicious meal that will greet them in the morning, Harry and Draco were wide-awake in the drafty dungeons.   
  
The Slytherin common room lay dormant, devout of the shouting and shenanigans that were usually present on any given night. Although it had been several days since most of the students departed for their homes, the stench of the stink bomb Goyle set off still lingered in the air. Draco had tried his best to rid the room of the odor before his guest arrived, to no avail. But he had been able to redecorate the common room to elude a romantic feel by dimming the lights and scattering pillows in front of the blazing fireplace. However, the common room was not his main focus, as much of the activities he had planned were to happen in the sixth year boys' dorm. A silk comforter, which was ablaze with a rich green color that brought out the creaminess in his pale complexion, replaced the cotton duvet on his bed. He had strategically placed candles around the room, and a large silver bowl of strawberries on his nightstand.   
  
His plan for that night was to seduce Harry. In the common room, he would place light kisses on the green-eyed boy's lips that he hoped would eventually lead them to the dorms. He would then enrapture Harry's senses with the delectable fruit, and give him a sensual body massage that would force them to continue the rest of their activities in bed. However, things had not gone entirely as planned.   
  
Although Harry had eaten the strawberries with great fervor, and had surely enjoyed the gentle massage that Draco gave him, he had balked when it came time to proceed further. Harry now sat on Goyle's bed, his knees pulled up to this chest as he shivered. He didn't know if his shaking was caused by the chill that drifted in and out of the room or of his nervousness of what was to come. His gaze flickered to the young man lying on the bed across from him. Harry met those gray eyes for only a moment, before looking away.   
  
He certainly had no reason to be nervous, as he and Draco had planned that evening several weeks in advance, and had already spent an exorbitant amount of time getting familiar with each other's body during their many late night excursions into the empty rooms in the North Tower. They never ventured into the overly populated Astronomy Tower, as it allowed for very little privacy. Plus, Harry knew that a coupling of his and Draco's sort would cause many of the students - who normally would not notice a natural disaster, as they satisfied their teenage hormonal needs in semi dark corners - to raise an eyebrow or two. Additionally, that he and the Slytherin had chosen one another would have sent a ripple through the school, as many had grown accustomed to seeing them as rivals.   
  
A smile curled onto Harry's lips, as he couldn't believe that he and Draco would find themselves in a relationship with one another. Over the years, he had come to see their relationship purely as that of enemies who glared at one another in the halls. He'd always envisioned being with someone more like himself - like fellow Gryffindor Oliver Wood. He and Oliver had spent some time together the summer following fourth year, when the Quidditch player stopped at The Burrow to see how he was coping with Voldemort's return. Harry had long admired Oliver's determination, and thought he was aesthetically pleasing. Several other young lads had caught Harry's eye over the years, even Draco. It was difficult not to notice the Slytherin, as he stood out from the rest with his striking features. Everything about the confident way in which he walked down the halls, to the way he flicked his long hair out of his eyes every so often never ceased to catch Harry's eye. But Draco's mean spirit and insensitive quips about Ron's finances always enabled Harry to keep his distance from him.  
  
But things had changed drastically during their fifth year. The taunting that usually accompanied their encounters had disappeared, much to Ron's chagrin - he wanted to have an excuse to pummel the blond. Hermione saw the transformation as a show of maturity. She assumed that Voldemort's present threat had forced him to push all petty bickering to the wayside. Ron, on the other hand, thought Hermione's reasoning was rubbish and often warned Harry that the sudden change in Draco's demeanor was a trick to catch him off guard. Regardless of the reasons, Harry greeted the change with much happiness, as he had grown weary of always doing battle with the other lad.   
  
But he soon noticed other changes in Draco that year. The other boy seemed to spend a great deal of time staring at him. But unlike previous years, these stares were never accompanied with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. He often observed how Draco would casually glance over his shoulder during Potions class and stare at the Gryffindor section of the classroom. Even when Harry had his head buried in one of the books, he would still feel Draco's eyes on him. The intense glare of the other boy's eyes always caused him to move around uncomfortably in his chair.   
  
Soon afterwards, Draco's staring escalated into something more: touching. It was surprising for Harry, to say the least, when he felt Draco's fingers graze his arm or back while he made his way to class. The unexpected physical contact would always cause Harry to barricade himself in his dorm room after classes, and ponder whether the other boy was flirting with him. His heart always rang with a mixture of excitement and worry as he wondered about Draco's intentions.   
  
But he soon learned of Mr. Malfoy's intentions on April 5, 1996. After running back to his dorm to get his homework, Harry encountered Draco in a dark corridor in the North Tower. Neither boy said a word as they glanced at one another from opposite ends of the hall. But it was Draco who broke the silence, when he made an offhand remark about the dreary weather outside. Harry moved back against the wall, unable to believe that the other boy was talking to him so casually. Then suddenly, he began to get his suspicions about Draco. "He's up to something," he thought to himself. But before he had time to think things through, Draco began to approach him. His back already pressed against the wall, Harry had nowhere to go, and soon found himself merely inches away from the other boy. What happened next was something he still couldn't believe to this day.   
  
Harry never did make it the rest of his classes that day. He retreated back to his dorm and lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers flittered to his mouth, and gingerly grazed the same spot Draco had kissed. His mind had gone blank when Draco leaned in for the embrace. He was surprised that he did not try to resist nor turn his head to the side. He was even more taken aback that Draco would even attempt to kiss him.   
  
He in no way would have assumed that Draco was gay, considering the Malfoy family's hatred of all those who were not like themselves. Plus, the Slytherin's reputation with the girls in the school had firmly solidified him as a heterosexual, in Harry's eyes. But Draco later admitted that all of this was a facade; he engaged in the macho behavior to satisfy his father's views of masculinity.   
  
The following day, Draco had sent him a letter inviting him to a secret meeting. Harry could still remember the talk they had that evening. That was the time Draco confessed that his attraction to him had occurred during their meeting in the Madam Malkin's robe shop. It was also discovered that the public humiliation Draco experienced when Harry refused his hand was what sparked their rivalry.   
  
Harry was surprised to learn that Draco had come to terms with his homosexuality at such an early age. Although Harry had felt some fondness for his own sex, he always tried to ignore them. Plus, momentary infatuations with girls such Cho had helped to confuse him even more.   
  
His and Draco's relationship slowly build from that point forward, as they began to owl one another on a daily basis and sneaked off to be alone each night. These nightly excursions always filled Harry with fear, and he would often throw up beforehand. Although he had engaged in some kissing and petting with another boy - he won't give out that boy's name - during the early part of his fifth year, Harry was still sexually inexperienced with members of either sex. He knew Draco had had many encounters with women, as stories of his sexual prowess - which were fueled by Pansy Parkinson - were legendary around school. But Draco possessed great patience and gentleness, and was able to slowly rid Harry of his inhibitions.   
  
Still drunk from his encounter with Draco, Harry would often stumble into the common room in the wee hours of the morning. He always spent several minutes fixing his disheveled clothes and hair, before proceeding to the dorms – where he knew Ron would be waiting up for him. Ron always assumed he was gallivanting around school with some young Ravenclaw or Hufflupuff; the redhead surely would have gotten word if Harry was fooling around with a house mate, as gossip always spread fast in Gryffindor House. And for nearly a year, those close to Harry had been kept in the dark about his homosexuality and coupling with Draco.  
  
The summer months after his fifth year were difficult for Harry, as he experienced a slow and painful withdrawal from being away from Draco. He spent most of his days in that tiny bedroom on 4 Privet Drive awaiting an owl post from Draco's eagle owl. Excitement would always flood throughout his body when he received a package from Malfoy Manor. That had been the only summer he did not lose weight, as he was able to live off the abundunt food Draco sent on a daily basis.  
  
When sixth year started, his and Draco's interactions with one another became more frequent and intense. They eventually decided that the Christmas break was the right time for them to finally consummate their relationship.  
  
But in actuality, they two young lads couldn't wait and proceeded with things a lot sooner than planned. Two weeks prior, they were in their usual room kissing, when things quickly became heated. Before either of them knew what was happening, they found themselves making love. Their first go around was a lackluster experience for Harry, as he only marginally participated in the activity; he was too busy marveling at the fact that he was naked and making love to another boy. Plus, the encounter was too short for him to get any actual physical pleasure from it.   
  
But now they sat facing one another, as they both waited for the other to make the first move. "Why don't you come over here?" Draco asked. He was lounging on his bed, his legs stretched out before him. The buttons on his satin pajama top were unbuttoned, revealing his chest. Although Harry had seen that smooth skin on many occasions, he never tired of glancing at it, or running his hands up and down its muscular form.   
  
Harry climbed off of Goyle's lumpy bed and walked towards Draco. He grabbed the waistline of his pajamas when he felt them begin to slide down his body. He wished he had something better to wear for that special occasion other than Dudley's old baggy clothes.   
  
He sat down on the edge of Draco's bed and glanced down at the other boy. Harry looked away and stared straight ahead of him. He then imagined the shock the other Slytherins would face, if they were to step into the room at that moment. He brought his hand to his face to hide his smile, when he felt Draco's warm breath on his ear. He closed his eyes when his earlobe was suddenly enveloped by the other boy's mouth.  
  
Draco's mouth ventured south, until it landed on the nape of Harry's neck. But the embrace ended just as suddenly as it had begun. Draco abruptly pulled away from him and resumed his lounging position on the bed.   
  
"Why did you stop?" asked Harry.  
  
Draco brought his hand to his face and examined his nails. "You didn't seem like you were enjoying it." He reached out his hand and placed it on Harry's knee. "It's okay if you don't want to do this. I could tell you weren't into it when we first started."  
  
"But I was enjoying it." But Harry had to admit that he was not being as responsive as he would have liked. In normal circumstances, he would have allowed a moan to escape his mouth. But that night, he had been extremely tightlipped. He supposed his nervousness stemmed from being in the Slytherin dorms.   
  
Harry glanced down at Draco's face, trying to detect if he was angry at his less than amorous response. But there was no such annoyance on the other boy's face. "I really want to do this," he responded. "In fact, I haven't been able to think of anything else this entire week."   
  
Draco sat up and moved next to Harry. He then allowed his hand to drift along Harry's thigh. He could feel the other boy's hard muscles tense underneath his fingertips. "I know the last time wasn't anything special," he said, sounding almost embarrassed. "But I promise that tonight will be a lot better." He lifted his hand to Harry's face and curled his fingers around his chin, gently forcing him to gaze his way. He then leaned forward and kissed Harry.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. But he had little time to enjoy the sensual pleasure of Draco's mouth against his, when he felt Draco pull him onto the bed. The blond quickly maneuvered on top of him. Harry looked up at those eyes that were now staring down at him; it amazed him that Draco's gaze could convey so much emotion.   
  
Draco's hands traveled to Harry's face, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He then brought his mouth down on Harry's, slowly tasting the other boy's lips. His lips then worked their way along Harry's neck and shoulders, while his hands worked quickly to disrobe him.   
  
Harry was completely unaware that Draco had taken off his pajama pants and boxers - he was surely still intoxicated by the kisses he'd received earlier - until he felt the sudden rush of cold air hit his skin. Instinctively, he placed his hands over his groin. Although they had been naked together once before, tonight was different; Draco would have ample opportunity to eye his naked physique, and critique every flaw.   
  
Draco sat up on the bed and looked down at Harry's reddened cheeks and closed eyes. "I want to see all of you," he said. He reached for Harry's hands and pushed them away.  
  
Harry's heart thumped as Draco's eyes glided down the length of his body - lingering on certain parts in the process. He held his breath as he awaited a verdict from the other boy. But Draco said nothing, as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. He kept his hands clenched in a tight ball at first, but eventually relaxed and wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders.  
  
Draco got off the bed and began to undress. He let his shirt fall to the ground and slid the pants down his hips; he was not wearing any underwear. Noticing that Harry's gaze was fixed on him, he remained in the middle of the room, allowing the other boy enough time to observe him.  
  
Although Harry had seen a male's naked body before - he had often sneaked quick glances at his teammates in the Quidditch changing rooms - he still couldn't draw his eyes away from the sight in front of him. When they had made love the first time, the room was dark; so Harry sat up on the bed, and drank in the milky white flesh. But after getting an eyeful, he watched as Draco slowly climbed into bed with him.  
  
That night was surely more enjoyable than the first. Even an hour after their encounter, Harry's heart still beat fast, as he recalled what had happened. His tongue flickered over his lips, as he savored the taste of Draco's mouth. His eyes drifted to the now sleeping lad beside him. He brought his hand to Draco's chest and let his fingers glide along the hard muscles of his body. Harry left his hand on the other boy's chest and drifted off to sleep.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Draco turned his head to the side and moaned in his sleep. That dream of him ravishing another boy in the teacher's lounge had plagued him for the past couple of months. The possibility of Snape - or better yet, McGonagall - walking in and catching them in the act, excited him. But he would never confess this desire to Harry, as the Gryffindor was reserved when it came to venues for conducting amorous trysts. Draco was thoroughly enjoying the seduction, when an icy cold sensation on his chest caused him to awake.   
  
"Harry," he murmured, while his eyes were still closed. "Your hands are cold."   
  
He slowly opened his eyes and gazed at the clock on his nightstand. It was four in the morning. He then sank into his warm bedcovers and attempted to fall back to sleep. But his hopes of returning to his blissful dream was cut short when he felt another cold sensation on his neck.   
  
"Harry," he said once more, this time with more annoyance in his voice. The arm that was draped across his waist moved, as the boy lying next to him stirred in his sleep. Draco could feel Harry's warm fingers tightened their grip around his skin.  
  
He opened his eyes again to look at who, or what, was causing him to be cold. As his eyes become more focused, he could roughly see an image floating above his head. He blinked several times, as his gaze came into contact with the dark eyes of Peeves the Poltergeist. 


	2. Peevish Peeves

Chapter 2: Peevish Peeves  
Draco stared into the poltergeist's eyes for a moment; but thinking he was dreaming, he let his eyes close and drifted off to sleep. Peeves floated above the bed for several more minutes, his eyes fixed on the couple below him.   
  
In life, the poltergeist had been the youngest of nine children, and the only way he could catch his parents' attention was by acting obnoxious. But he had never grown out of his need to be looked at. Even in death, he had a thirst for attention, whether it be negative or otherwise. He had once haunted the mansion of the Westbrook clan in Essex for several years; but was forced to move out when his behavior ceased to draw a reaction from any of the family members. But his luck had changed when he came to Hogwarts. The school's large population and abundant rooms provided a cornucopia of opportunities for mayhem. Plus the fresh crop of incoming first years always guaranteed that he would have a group of students who hadn't grown weary of him.  
  
He had experienced much fun that night in the Gryffindor girls' dorm; Parvati always proved to be a favorite target, as she was easily spooked. Hearing her squeals as he zoomed around the room for twenty minutes knocking her possessions to the ground had put him in a frenzy. He was then ready to take on a much more difficult target: Draco. The blond had always proved to be a hard person to anger; his cool demeanor and the way he always glanced up so casually at him irked Peeves. It seemed as though nothing he did rattled the young lad's nerves.   
  
However, he was able to irritate Draco for the first time the night before. Seeing that he was setting candles about the dorm, Peeves took a lot of pleasure in blowing them out. Draco finally lost his temper and began to yell at him. Peeves smiled then, as he knew he had succeeded in getting under the seemingly cool lad's skin. Knowing the lad's reputation, Peeves assumed Draco was preparing for a romantic night with one of the young ladies who had stayed behind at school. His plan was to sneak into the dorms and catch the couple while they were engaging in a romantic tryst. He carefully approached the bed, but was disappointed to discover that Draco and his mate were both asleep. But his happiness had returned when his laid his eyes on the young man now curled aside Draco.   
  
Peeves grinned widely as he took one last look at the sleeping couple below. He then floated away, and prepared himself for the fun he would have later on.   
~*~*~  
  
Harry's hand leisurely traveled along the bed in search of hot skin. He assumed his fingers would eventually glide along the hills of Draco's smooth chest, but he felt nothing. His eyes snapped open. The left side of the bed was empty. He brought Draco's pillow to his face and inhaled deeply, enjoying the musky scent that drifted into his nostrils. He laughed, as he knew his actions seemed somewhat childish; he would surely be embarrassed if Draco caught him doing this. He felt along the bed once more; it was cold. It was apparent that Draco had left a while ago. His gaze flittered around the room, hoping to find the boy; but since the room lacked windows, it was hard to see.   
  
But he soon heard Draco walk back into the room with a towel draped over his shoulder. Draco did not look in his direction and headed to his trunk, where he deposited his shaving kit and other toiletries. He then walked to the full-length mirror on the other end of the room and checked his appearance.   
  
Harry sat up on the bed and watched as Draco fumbled with his hair. A look of disappointment rang out on his face. He had hoped to awake with the young man in his arms. He assumed that morning would be a continuation of the night before, when Draco showed such tenderness and took his time caressing his body. He didn't crave lovemaking as much as he desired to be held in the other boy's arms. But he knew that would be too much to ask of him. Draco, although passionate at times, could also be aloof and distant.   
  
"You should get dressed," said Draco. "The feast is going to be starting in about an hour."  
  
Harry was quickly drawn from his thoughts and snapped his head in the direction of the other boy. He eyed him for several minutes, before he reluctantly got out of the bed. Noticing that Draco was watching him through the mirror, Harry covered his naked body with a silk bed sheet. He reached under the bed for his bag, which held his extra clothes. "Could I take a shower here?" he asked.   
  
Draco didn't bother to glance over his shoulder and uttered, "The bathrooms are over there."   
  
Harry headed to where Draco was pointing. The Slytherin bathroom was much like the one in his own dorm, except for the colored tiles that were expertly arranged against one wall to resemble Salazar Slytherin. Thinking that the man's eyes were following him about, Harry quickly headed into one of the shower stalls.   
  
After a much deserved hot shower, he walked to the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. He should have had a bright smile on his face, as their night together had been blissful. He tried to force a smile onto his lips, but he ended up looking awkward.   
  
He bent down to get his toothbrush from his bag, when he felt Draco's hands curl around his waist. Draco's warm breath was then on his ear. He turned around and faced the other boy, glancing deep into his eyes. They did not utter a word to one another. Draco opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. He then glanced down at his feet, before pulling Harry against his body and hugging him. Harry closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around the other boy; he needed no words to know how Draco was feeling at that moment. A smile now trickled onto his lips more easily than before.   
  
The two shared one last kiss before Harry put on his invisibility cloak and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. As he trudged back to the dorms, he tried to concoct an explanation to give The Fat Lady when she questioned him about his whereabouts. He took off his cloak and made his presence known when he approached the portrait. But luckily for him, the lady in the portrait didn't ask him any questions, as she seemed to be enjoying a celebration with some of her friends. "Happy Christmas," she slurred, before taking a long sip of her drink. She didn't wait for him to say the password, and swung open.   
  
Not wanting to make his presence known to Parvati nor Seamus, Harry slowly crept into the common room. But after several minutes of standing in the middle of the room and listening for any signs of the other two students, he determined that they must have already headed to the Great Hall for the feast. He made his way to the dorm rooms and deposited his bag. He fell back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes closed, as recollections of the night before flooded his mind. He brought his shirt to his nose; he could still smell the other boy's cologne on his clothes.   
  
~*~*~  
  
Although he could have spent the rest of the day reminiscing, Harry eventually climbed out of his bed and forced himself to go down the Great Hall. Ghosts pasted by him singing Christmas carols as he descended the stairs to the ground floor. Even Peeves seemed to be in the spirit of the holidays and sang carols - although his renditions of the classics were rather crude; he chased Parvati down the hall while belting "Frosty the Snow Bitch."  
  
"Peeves," yelled Professor McGonagall as she stood by the entranceway of the Great Hall ushering in the students. "Stop harassing the students. And don't let me hear you using such vulgar language again." She placed her hands on her hips and glared up at the poltergeist, her eyes daring him to do something else.   
  
But Peeves eventually abandoned his stance and floated away.   
  
"Come along Harry," Professor McGonagall called out. "The feast will begin soon."  
  
Harry quickened his steps, when Peeves floated by him. "Yes, Master Potter," he said in his usual cackle. "Wouldn't want you to miss the feast. There's going to be much excitement there, and you must be present."  
  
Harry furrowed his brows as he glanced up at him. He was in the process of thinking what the poltergeist could be up to when his gaze fell on Draco, who was making his way to the Great Hall. Harry opened his mouth to shout out the other boy's name, but stopped himself just in time. He lowered his head as he was suddenly bombarded with doubts that he would be able to keep his feelings for Draco to himself during the meal. But after deciding he would concentrate solely on his food to keep from glancing around the table at the other boy, Harry proceeded to the Great Hall.   
  
When he entered the room, he saw Seamus and Parvati whispering to one another. Then Seamus waved and signaled for him to sit next to them. Harry grimaced; he knew they would surely question where he had been the night before. He was so preoccupied in his quest to sit as far away from his fellow Gryffindors, that he didn't realize he was sitting across from Draco until he glanced up at the other boy's face. Draco met his gaze for a moment, before flittering away. Harry couldn't believe how Draco was able to keep his eyes so expressionless, and hide the connection they had formed the night before.   
  
After a short delay - which was caused by several of the first years walking around the room to marvel at the decorations and bewitched ceiling - the feast eventually commenced. Although the food was bountiful and smelled delicious, Harry never touched a morsel, as his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of the other boy. Things were made worse when he and Draco reached for the same roll. Harry should have immediately pulled his hand away, but he left it where it was, as he savored the touch of Draco's warm hand underneath his. But even he knew that their in interaction had been too long when he noticed a scowl on Draco's face. He quickly brought his arm back to his side. However, their exchange had not gone unnoticed; he could see Snape glancing at him. The Potions Master's eyes stayed fix on him for several minutes before they traveled to Draco and scrutinized him with the same amount of intensity.   
  
Just as he lowered his head and contemplated what Snape could have witnessed, Peeves appeared from the middle of the table. "Hello your Headship," the poltergeist greeted Dumbledore. "How is your meal?"  
  
Dumbledore finished chewing the last of his roast beef and wiped his mouth. "Delicious as always." He put down his fork and glanced up at Peeves. "I hope that you are staying out of trouble. I was informed of your lasted interaction with Ms. Patel. I am shocked you would use such language around a lady."  
  
Peeves whizzed through the air overhead Parvati. "Oh I am deeply ashamed of my actions, Sir." He reached down and placed a hand in Parvati's hair. "I surely hope she will forgive me." His fingers curled around several strands of her brown tresses. The touch was gently at first, but he eventally gave her a little tug.   
  
Parvati made a face and moved out of his reach.   
  
But Peeves soon found a new interest, as he traveled down the table towards Harry. "Master Potter, how are you enjoying your meal?" His voice was unusually pleasant.   
  
Harry was so taken aback by the seemingly caring expression on Peeves' face that he glanced up at him for several seconds to check if he really was being sincere. But he dropped his gaze when he noticed a tickle of mischief glimmering in the poltergeist's eyes and answered with a hushed, "Yes."  
  
Peeves floated across the table to Draco. "And what about you, young Master Malfoy? Is the meal to your liking?"  
  
Draco was not easily fooled by Peeves and did bother to look his way, as he brought the spoonful of cranberry sauce slowly to his lips. But the spoon stopped short of meeting his mouth, when he felt the cold touch of Peeves' fingers on his neck. He dropped the spoon on his plate and swiftly gazed up at the poltergeist.  
  
"I bet the meal doesn't taste as good as the delights you savored last night," Peeves uttered in a whisper that was loud enough for all at the table to hear. "Does it boys?" He then innocently glanced from Draco to Harry. He observed startled expressions on both of the young boys' faces, before continuing down the table. He paused near Justin and slowly poked his finger into the young man's bowl of sticky toffee pudding.   
  
Justin batted him away, before asking, "What are you on about?"   
  
Peeves shook his head. "Oh, I can't say. It's of a sexual nature." He then floated to the corner of the room and turned his back to everyone. But glancing over his shoulder, his eyes beamed when he caught the interested glances of most of the people at the table; the titillating nature of what he had to say surely caught their attention. But he glanced away again, hoping that someone would eventually cajole him to speak.   
  
"Peeves, what is it?" asked Seamus.   
  
The poltergeist's eyes lit up. He floated back to the table and uttered, "This morning I accidentally came across a delightful scene of star-crossed lovers in the aftermath of what looked like an amorous night together." His head hung low, and he spoke as if embarrassed by what he had seen.   
  
Justin pushed his plate to the side and moved forward in his seat. "Who were these star-crossed lovers?"   
  
Peeves put his hands over his face. "Please don't make me do this. I'm afraid I might expose what seems to be a secret union."   
  
Seamus' eyes travel down the length of the table, as he tried to guess which of the thirty people present could have spent the night together. But catching a glimpse of Harry's blushing face and knowing that he had suspiciously sneaked out of the dorms in the middle of the night, he assumed the green-eyed boy had a secret girlfriend. Since many of the girls present were giggly first years, Seamus presumed the object of Harry's affections must have been one of the two sixth year Ravenclaws sitting at the end of the table.  
  
"I'll give you all a hint," said Peeves. "They are two young rivals you wouldn't expect would find comfort in each other's arms." Seeing that all eyes were now on him, the bashful facade on his face disappeared to reveal his usual toothy grin. "Can anyone guess who these lovers are?" he asked. He glanced at everyone's anticipated eyes, savoring the way he had captivated all of them, before blurting out, "Potter and Malfoy!" 


	3. The Aftermath

Chapter 3: The Aftermath  
  
  
  
"Potter and Malfoy!" Peeves belted.  
  
Seamus spit out his drink, spraying Justin Finch-Flechley with pumpkin juice.  
  
"Naughty, naughty, you got caughty" snickered Peeves, doing flips in the air as the people below gawked at Harry and Draco with disbelief on their faces.  
  
"That's enough Peeves," said Dumbledore, remaining calm.  
  
Peeves stopped smiling and gave Dumbledore his most serious face. "Oh yes, Your Headship. I am so sorry for laughing; it's very inconsiderate of me. "   
  
He hung is head in shame as he floated towards the door. When he was out of Dumbledore's range of sight, he looked back at Harry and Draco, giving then both a boastful smile.   
  
"Well, let's finish this wonderful food before it gets cold" said Dumbledore. But no one ate, their eyes stayed glued to the two boys.  
  
Finally, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and said "You all heard Dumbledore, back to your meal."   
  
Everyone slowly went back to their meal, staring at their plates and then glancing up every now and then to look at Harry and Draco.  
  
Seamus turned to face Harry. He opened his mouth and was about to say something, when McGonagall yelled at  
him. " Mr. Finnegan, that includes you too."  
  
A few minutes had passed when Draco got up from his seat and quickly walked out of he room. Harry wanted to go after him, but he couldn't move, his feet stayed bolted to the floor.  
  
After the uneasy meal was over and the plates had been cleared, Harry tried to escape before anyone could ask him anything, but Professor McGonagall stopped him in the hallway. She was about to lecture him, but she let him go, after seeing the embarrassment on his face.  
  
Harry stood in the halls, pondering where he could escape. Going back to Gryffindor Tower was out of the question; he knew that Parvati and Seamus would be up there, waiting eagerly to accost him.   
  
He roamed the deserted halls of the castle for half an hour, straining his ears for any signs of Peeves' cackling voice. After realizing that his walk was doing nothing to relieve his anxiety, Harry decided to visit Draco and see how he was doing.  
  
As he ran down the hall that led to the dungeons, excited to visit with Draco, Harry slammed into Mr. Filch, knocking the man to the ground. "Filch, I'm so sorry" he said, offering the man a hand.  
  
Filch pushed his hand away and got up of his own accord. "You should watch where you're going." He glared at the boy with disgust on his face   
  
"And where are you off to in such a hurry?" asked Filch, with disgust in his voice. "Meeting Draco for another rendezvous, are we?"  
  
Harry turned the other way and sprinted all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. As he climbed through the portrait hole, Seamus walked towards him.  
  
"Harry, Harry are you and Draco really an item?" he asked.  
  
Parvati tried to hold him back, but he moved her hand out of the way and continued to follow Harry up the steps to the boys' dorm, badgering him with questions. Having had enough, Harry turned around and shouted, "Leave me the fuck alone!"  
  
  
******  
  
  
Harry lay in his bed, dreading the arrival of his classmates from their Christmas break. He had spent the past couple of days imagining all the horrible rumors that Peeves and Seamus would be telling everyone. But he convinced himself that Ron and Hermione would not take the news too badly.   
  
He knew that Draco had been rude to them in the past, but the Slytherin had changed his ways; he now held his tongue while in the presence of his friend.   
  
However, there were times when Draco let his temper get the better of him and ended up having a creaming match with Ron, but overall he was civil.   
  
Harry stared at the ceiling, content that his friends, would accept his decision to be with Draco. I hope, he thought.  
  
Harry was busying himself with thoughts of his friends' reactions, when a hand reached into the curtains and grabbed his shirt collar, pulling his body forward. "What the hell" he shouted.  
  
Ron's freckled and frantic face was now inches away from his own. "Are the rumors about you and Draco true?"   
  
Harry struggled to get out of Ron's hold; the other boy was starting to choke him. "I'll tell you when you let go of me"  
  
Ron let go of his shirt and glared down at him. "Well?"   
  
Harry lay back on his bed, looking from Ron to Hermione, who was sitting on the next bed waiting for his answer. He took a deep breath and said, "Yes, the rumors are true."  
  
Ron threw his hands in the air. "Harry, what the fuck!" he yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothing" said Harry calmly.  
  
"No, something has to be wrong. This is a joke right? Harry please tell me this a joke you just made up."  
  
"No Ron, it's not a joke."  
  
"Harry, are you high? How the hell could you be dating Malfoy, he's Satan!" Ron thought his yelling would arouse Harry emotionally, but it didn't, he remained unfazed. "Have you forgotten the things he's done to you, me and Hermione, all of us?"  
  
Harry looked away.  
  
"Harry this is the same Malfoy whose father wants you dead, you do remember that, don't you?" He looked at Harry for a response, but the boy continued looking at the window.  
  
"You better not go to his house for dinner because you know what they will be serving?" he asked. "You! You'll be on a silver platter with a big, fat apple in your mouth and Lucius will be serving you to You Know Who."  
  
The thought of himself being served to Voldemort like a roasted pig brought Harry back to reality. But he told himself that Draco was nothing like his father, he had changed. He finally looked as his friend. "Ron, don't be so dramatic."  
  
"I am not being dramatic". Ron turned to Hermione, who had not yet spoken a word. "Geez Herm, you seem a little too calm about this, what have you got to say?"  
  
  
"I don't know what to say, I guess I'm just trying to soak it all in" she said slowly. Actually, she had been suspecting that something like this would happen, for quite some time.   
  
She had long observed the way Harry and Draco always seemed to be looking at one another during class and all the strange little notes that Harry had been receiving from an owl she did not recognize.   
  
She also noticed how he would always be sneaking into the common room late at night with his hair disheveled and strange red marks on his neck.  
  
Ron furrowed his eyebrows and stared at her in amazement. "Oh yeah, thanks for the enlightenment, Herm. Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?"  
  
"What do you want me to say, Ron?"  
  
"I don't know, maybe `Harry what the fuck's wrong with you,' maybe that."  
  
"Well, it's Harry's decision."  
  
Ron was now pacing the room. "I can't believe what you're saying. Am I the only sane person here today? Hello! Have the two of you forgotten the past five years?"  
  
Hermione hadn't forgotten the past year to remember that it was free of Draco's rude comments. She had to admit that the last time she heard a vulgar remark come out of Draco's mouth was about a year ago. Since then, he hasn't bothered calling her a Mudblood, and he's even eased off of Ron.  
  
Her thoughts led her to last year when, during an unexpected heat wave, Ron's hair started to curl from the heat and humidity. He spent the whole day looking like he was wearing a big, red afro on his head. Everyone snickered at the sight of him, but Draco kept his comments to himself.  
  
Hermione walked over to Harry and sat on the edge of his bed. "Do you love him?"  
  
Ron stared at her in disbelief. "What kinda question is that? Of course he doesn't. He'd have to be mad  
to--"  
  
"I don't know, sometimes I feel like I might" interrupted Harry.  
  
That statement brought an uncomfortable silence amongst the three friends, until Ron screamed, "What? Oh, my God!"  
  
"Ron, keep your voice down," said Hermione.  
  
Ron crossed his arms against his chest. "Why should I? Everyone's already talking about it." He then turned to Harry, "You didn't sleep with him, did you? Cause Peeves is telling everyone you guys did it."  
  
Harry didn't answer his friend; he looked down at his hands.  
  
"Harry! Oh my God, you did. I-I think I'm gonna be sick." Ron started making gagging sounds in the back of his throat. "I can't be in here anymore, I have to go." He walked out the room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
"Don't worry about him, he'll come around" said Hermione. She leaned in close to him, smiling coyly, as she asked, "So, how was it?"  
  
"How was what?"  
  
"You know, with Draco".  
  
"Hermione" exclaimed Harry, blushing profusely.  
  
"I don't want the gory details, I just want to know if you feel like you made the right decision."  
  
"Yes, I made the right decision. I was ready for it," he said grinning. "It was really nice." Harry sat up on the bed and the smile on his face widened as he began to talk about his night with Draco. "Oh Hermione, there were candles everywhere, rose petals on the bed, and he fed me strawberries."  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows, evidently impressed by Draco's gestures. "Wow, who would have thought Draco was a closet romantic."   
  
"And he was really good, too."  
  
"Yum, the gory details" said Hermione,   
  
"No, that's not what I meant. Yes, he was good, he was great actually" said Harry laughing to himself. Hermione slapped him on the elbow. "But what I meant was that he was so gentle, real sweet, he took his time with me."  
  
"I'm happy for you." She reached over and took his hand in hers. "But be careful, okay. I know that Draco hasn't been his mean spirited self for awhile, and you're happy right now, but you have to remember that his father is in cohorts with You Know Who."  
  
"I know" said Harry, looking away.  
  
  
***********  
  
The next couple of weeks were very daunting for Harry, having to deal with the whole school gossiping about him and Draco; they were now the hottest topic on everyone's lips. "Draco and Harry are dating? Bring out my ice skates cause hell has officially frozen over," Harry heard a Ravenclaw say.  
  
Every time he would enter the Gryffindor common room after classes, he would see Seamus whispering to a large group in the corner of the room. Harry knew that they were talking about him because the group would suddenly become silent whenever he walked past them.  
  
However, Harry's most humiliating incidents always involved Peeves. While all the students were sitting down to dinner, Peeves floated into the Great Hall, carrying something in his hands. He interrupted everyone's meal by shouting; "I've got some Potter and Malfoy sex tapes for sale! Watch some hot boy on boy action!"  
  
"Peeves!" shouted Dumbledore. "That is extremely inappropriate, please leave now."  
  
"Yes, Your Headship" said Peeves, heading for the door. But then he turned around again and said; "If anyone wants to buy a tape, see me in room-"  
  
"Get out of here" yelled Dumbledore, getting to his feet.  
  
Harry hid his face in his hands as the whole room erupted in laughter. Some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs stood up from their chairs, craning their necks to get a better view of his reddening face. "It'll be all right" Hermione leaned over and said to  
him.  
  
Harry was extremely grateful that he had the support and understanding of Hermione. He knew that he could always talk to her, and she would not judge him. Ron was a different story; he made it perfectly clear to Harry that he did not want to discuss anything pertaining to Draco. He and Ron's friendship had become a bit strained over the past couple of weeks; the red haired boy now preferred the company of Dean and Neville.  
  
  
*******  
  
Harry found that he could deal with all the gossip and Peeves' little song and dance routines, but he was extremely pained when Draco started avoiding him. Whenever he would spot Draco in the halls, the blond boy would quicken his steps and lower his head to avoid Harry's eyes. In fact, he and Draco had not spoken to each other since Christmas day.  
  
Harry also found it hard to watch how the other Slytherins were treating Draco. During meals, Draco was always sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table, none of his housemates looking, or even talking to him.   
  
When they would wait outside Snape's classroom, Draco would be standing by himself, his fellow Slytherins talking loudly to themselves several feet away. His cronies Crabbe and Goyle also found someone new to follow around school.  
  
Even Snape seemed to have turned on Draco, who was once his pet. Usually Snape enjoyed tormenting and embarrassing Neville, or anyone of the Gryffindors that were in his class, but he now directed his hatred towards Draco.   
  
Once, when taking attendance in class, Snape bypassed Draco's name. The whole class noticed the indiscretion and buzzed in small talk until he told them to shut their yaps.  
  
When the class was assigned to work on a floating spell, Snape paired up students to work on the experiment, but he purposely overlooked Draco. The boy spent the rest of the class working by himself in the corner.  
  
*******  
  
Harry finally got a chance to speak to Draco when he went to watch the Slytherins' quidditch practice. He sat in the stands and watched as the Slytherins' new team captain yelled at his players, telling them they weren't good enough to play against the Hufflepuffs. Harry had heard that Draco was stripped of his team captaincy a few days prior and was also demoted from seeker to chaser.  
  
Although Draco made a wonderful chaser and scored many points for his team, none of his teammates helped him when opponents tried to knock him off of his broom or hit him. Nor did any of the Slytherin beaters come to his rescue when a bludger was coming towards him. It was rumored that Draco remained on the team because his father supplied them with brooms.  
  
Harry was watching the practice, when Draco got hit in the face with a bludger, causing him to fall off his broom. Harry ran down from the stands as fast as he could, to see if Draco was all right. Just as he reached the field, he saw Draco's teammates leaving for the locker rooms, not taking a second look back at the injured boy.   
  
Harry ran up to Draco, who was sitting in the grass, holding his nose to stop it from bleeding.  
  
"That was no accident," said Harry, "That beater hit the bludger right at you." He looked at Draco's bleeding nose and said "Are you okay, do you want me to help you to the hospital wing?"  
  
Draco didn't look up at him. "No, I'll be fine."  
  
"How can they do that to you? I've been watching them, they purposefully want to hurt you" said Harry. "Like during the games, no one helps you out. You should tell one of the professors what's going on, before you get badly injured."  
  
Harry looked at Draco, anticipating a response, but he did not say anything. "If you won't say anything to anyone, then I'll do it for you. I could speak to Dumbledore."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said shut up," yelled Draco, getting to his feet. "This doesn't concern you."  
  
"But it deals with you and that concerns me. I'm worried about you," said Harry. "I just want you to mind your own business."  
  
"But Draco!"  
  
"Harry, don't make this harder for me than it already is. Just let me deal with this on my own."   
  
Harry took a step towards him, but he pushed him away and walked off the field.  
  
*******  
  
Harry was sitting in the common room with Ron and Hermione, finishing up some Potions homework, when Seamus burst into the room.  
  
"Oh my God, oh my God" said Seamus as he stumbled through the portrait hole. He was out of breath and his face was red. "Give me a moment, will you" he said to everyone. "I ran all the way up here from downstairs."  
  
Everyone watched patiently as Seamus put his hands on his knees, gulping for air. They had all become accustomed to seeing the boy stagger into the common room with some startling news about other students.  
  
"Okay, I was in Professor McGonagall's office awaiting my detention" he began. Seamus was given detention for wandering around the castle at midnight; he was heading to the Astronomy Tower to spy on snogging couples. "When all of a sudden Lucius Malfoy comes storming into her office. He practically kicked the door down, he was that angry."  
  
The crowd of students put down their homework and stared at Seamus. "Even though Professor McGonagall told me to wait in the hall, I could still hear them fighting. And man were they loud! Malfoy was yelling at McGonagall, saying that she should keep a closer eye on the students in her house."  
  
"He said that he didn't like her students going around bewitching his precious son and tempting him." Harry started to feel several eyes slowly turn and look at him.  
  
"He was cursing at her and everything, calling her all sorts of four letter words and all. But then Dumbledore came down the stairs and told me to get back to my room" he said, looking disappointed.  
  
"But guess what the most interesting part was?" he asked, looking around the room. "Lucius Malfoy is pulling his son out of school!" 


	4. One More Night Together

Chapter 4: One More Night Together  
  
"Seamus, you liar. That's not what happened." Parvati pointed her finger in his face.   
  
"Yes, it is. And how would you know? You weren't even there."   
  
"Neither were you, so shut up."   
  
"But I have a reliable source and he heard from a friend that was there."   
  
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Don't believe a word of what he says," she said to the crowd gathered around them.   
  
"You guys, have I let any of you down? Have I ever given you false information?"   
  
"Yes" murmured several students.   
  
Seamus started to backtrack. "Okay, maybe I might get my details wrong, but I swear that everything I'm telling you now is the truth." He tried to come up with something that would convince everyone that he was correct. "Didn't I break the news about the Potter/Malfoy affair? And wasn't I correct?"   
  
"What do you mean you broke it!" shouted Parvati. Her voice was loud enough to attract the stern stare of McGonagall. She lowered her voice and said, "Peeves was the one who announced the whole affair to everyone, you dumbass."   
  
The bickering continued between the two students, but sitting at the other end of the Gryffindor table Harry couldn't have cared less. As the excitement and chatter filled the room, a rain of melancholy showered down on him.   
  
He had tried everything in his power to resist looking up. He had attempted to amuse himself with a variety of activities, including talking to Neville and eating his meal. Even those diversions proved unsuccessful.  
  
He finally gave in to temptation as his eyes searched the other table. He gazed over every Slytherin, but still did not see Draco.   
  
"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Hermione. Her question was answered when she followed his stare to the other table. She placed her arm around his shoulders.   
  
Harry quickly pulled away from her. "I'm fine" he said flatly. He picked up his fork and began to stab at his chicken. Hermione stared at him for a moment, but decided to return to her meal when he did not return her glance.   
  
After he had completely de-boned the chicken leg, piling the meat in the center of his plate, he slowly turned to look at her. "I haven't seen him all day. In fact, I haven't seen him for the past couple of days."  
  
Hermione leaned close to him. "Do you think he went home already?"  
  
"No, or else we would have heard all the latest news" he said, looking over at Seamus.   
  
"Do you think he's sick?"  
  
"I don't know. If he is, that would explain why he hasn't been coming to class."  
  
"Who's sick?" ask Ron. He was sitting across from them, engrossed in his quidditch magazine when their conversation had distracted him. Harry and Hermione remained quiet as they exchanged a look.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Draco" said Hermione slowly. Ron scrunched his face and exhaled loudly. Hermione disregarded Ron and put her arm around Harry again. "The look on your face says that you plan on doing something."   
  
"I was thinking about visiting him" replied Harry. "Everyone's at dinner, so it would be easy to sneak into the---" Harry stopped talking when Ron noisily got up from his seat and walked to the other end of the table.   
  
"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" asked Ron.  
  
"No" said Dean. Ron casually glanced back at them as he took his seat next to Dean and resumed flipping through his magazine.  
  
Hermione took her eyes away from Ron. "You're gonna visit him? Harry, that's ridiculous. You might get caught."  
  
"No I won't" said Harry, pushing his plate away. "I'll use my invisibility cloak."   
  
He was about to get up from his chair, when Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "How are you going to get into the dungeons? You don't know the password."  
  
"I know it."  
  
She furrowed her eyebrows as she stared at him. "How?"  
  
"It's a long story." When he got to his feet, Hermione pulled him back down. "What?" he asked angrily.   
  
"Why don't you bring him some food? He must be hungry."  
  
Harry's expression softened as he looked at her, a smile forming on his face. "I didn't think of that. Thanks."  
  
"Now, get out of here."  
  
  
Harry headed to Gryffindor Tower to get his invisibility cloak, before going to the kitchen. He knew that Dobby would graciously give him all the food he wanted, considering the glittery socks he gave the house-elf for Christmas.  
  
After getting more than enough food to last Draco the whole week, Harry took off for the dungeons, under his cloak. "Draco sucks" he said to the portrait outside the Slytherin dungeon and the door swung open.   
  
He knew the password thanks to the help of Seamus, who had overheard some Slytherins bragging about it at the Prefects' meeting. "We were going to have the password be `Draco sucks Potter dick,' but Snape thought Dumbledork would think it was too obscene" they told everyone.  
  
He stepped into the quiet common room and made his way to the dorm rooms. He opened the door to Draco's dorm; all the beds were empty except for one.   
  
Draco was asleep in his bed and Harry was shocked when he saw how unhealthy he looked; his ivory skin had lost its exuberance and his hair, which was always shiny and silky, looked dull and messy, like he hadn't combed it in awhile.  
  
Harry took off his cloak and sat on the bed next to Draco, who was now waking up. Harry could see that Draco had large black circles around his eyes; he looked tired. But this was not a sleep deprived tired, the kind of face both of them often wore after a late night of snogging in the Astronomy Tower, trying to stifle their moaning so Finch wouldn't catch them. Draco had the look of a boy who had a lot of worries on his mind.  
  
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" asked Harry.   
  
"No" said Draco. He sat up on the bed, his back propped up by his pillows. Harry remembered that the last time he had seen Draco in that position, they were about to make love. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"I wanted to see you," said Harry.   
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just wanted to see if you were okay."  
  
"Why wouldn't I be all right?"  
  
"I haven't seen you for days and I thought something happened to you."  
  
"Well, here I am" said Draco. He folded his arms against his chest. "And as you can plainly see, I'm perfectly fine." He exhaled slowly as he calmly looked at Harry.  
  
Harry looked down at his bag and slowly pulled out the containers of food. "This is for you" he said, shoving the container of chicken into Draco's abdomen.   
  
"I'm so sorry I disturbed you." His teeth were clenched and his lips tightly pressed together. He reached for his cloak and began to walk to the door. He paused in front of door with his back to Draco. Not hearing a response from the bed, he began to open the door.   
  
"You didn't have to do this" said Draco.  
  
"I wanted to."  
  
Harry stood with his forehead against the door, when he heard Draco eating. He slowly turned around and walked towards the bed.   
  
"Thanks" said Draco, barely audible.  
  
"Actually, it was Hermione's idea. So you have her to thank."  
  
Draco made a face.   
  
After Draco had finished licking all his fingers clean, Harry asked "Why haven't you been in class?"  
  
"My father told me not to go. He says the education I'm getting here is a joke. I'm going to be leaving tomorrow, so it's no big deal."  
  
"Tomorrow?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I thought your dad was going to work things out with Dumbledore."  
  
"My father and Dumbledore work out a compromise? I don't think so. My dad's going to get me a tutor and then next year I'll enroll in Durmstrang." He picked up another container, looking for food he might have missed. "Anyway, I can't wait to get out of this place, away from all the Slytherins."  
  
"Why's that?"   
  
"Things have been a bit intense since the whole Peeves incident." He began to stare at the window. "I guess you've already heard about our new password. I assume that's how you got in."   
  
"Yes" said Harry slowly. "Has everyone given you a hard time?"  
  
"What do you think?"   
  
Harry sat quiet for a moment, until he said, "You were going to leave and not say anything to me?"   
  
"I thought you'd hear the news from the other students."   
  
"You weren't even gonna say goodbye?"   
  
"I don't know. I don't like good-byes."  
  
Harry looked down and began to play with the duvet. Draco looked at him for a moment before reaching over and grabbing his wrist. "I was meaning to say something to you before I left. I started writing you a letter, but I never got past `Dear Harry.'"   
  
Draco grabbed Harry's other wrist and pulled him up to the bed. He wrapped his arms around Harry, inhaling deeply the scent of the other boy.   
  
"Did you tell your dad I bewitched you?" asked Harry.  
  
Draco looked away. "Yes. I'm sorry but it just made things a bit easier. You're not mad, are you?"  
  
"No."   
  
They were quiet, enjoying being close to each other, until Draco asked, "Do you get owl posts at your relatives' house?"   
  
Harry lifted his head from Draco's shoulder. "Yeah."  
  
"Good."   
  
"I hope you don't just send me letters."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"We're not going to see each other again?"  
  
"Do you want to?"   
  
"Yes. I'm pretty sure we could meet in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade."   
  
"You mean sneak around?" Draco laughed to himself. "God, this is so Romeo and Juliet" he said sarcastically.   
  
"Shut up."   
  
"I could probably sneak you off to my house. We could make love on my parents' bed."   
  
"That's disgusting."   
  
"Or I could meet you at your place and we could do it on your cousin's bed."   
  
"Draco, stop."   
  
"What? The idea doesn't turn you on?"   
  
Harry looked up at him, wondering if he really meant what he was saying.   
  
"I'm just kidding. Although, that part about your cousin does sound a bit appealing."   
  
Harry elbowed him in the ribs. "I don't want to imagine any scenario that involves Dudley."  
  
"Fine" said Draco as he pretended to pout. "Then imagine just you and me." He bent down and kissed Harry.   
  
Harry moved forward, pressing their lips firmer together. He let out a slight moan as their mouths began to move against each other. Their joy was short lived, as the sound of footsteps and talking could be heard from the common room. Harry quickly pulled away. "I have to go. I don't want them to catch me in here and beat me to a pulp."  
  
"Don't worry, I'll protect you."   
  
"Thanks, but I still have to go."   
  
Harry reached for his invisibility cloak, when Draco grabbed his waist, pulling him onto the bed. "Don't go."  
  
"Draco, please, I don't want to get killed." Harry tried to move away, but Draco's grip around him was too tight. His heart was beating erratically when the noise of the other Slytherins grew louder.   
  
Seeing the panic on his face, Draco bent towards Harry's ear and whispered, "Don't worry, they won't come in here. They all stay away from me."   
  
Harry turned around and looked at him. "I guess they'd rather sleep in the common room" began Draco. "But it suits me fine. More room for me." He released his hold on Harry's waist. "Why don't you stay? We can get reacquainted."   
  
He lifted his hand and began to lightly stroke Harry's chin. "It's been a very long time." He pulled Harry onto the bed and began to kiss him again.   
  
"Draco, wait" muttered Harry. "What if they hear us."   
  
Draco looked down at him. "Don't you mean what if they hear you and your screaming?"   
  
"I don't scream."   
  
"Oh yeah? Then how do you explain, `Oh Draco..oh God...oh that feels so good...oh Draco, that's so good.'" Harry hit him in the stomach. "Don't worry. If they do hear anything, they'll just assume I'm wanking."   
  
"Draco-" Harry's words were cut off when Draco attacked his lips, smothering his mouth.   
  
As they made love, Harry tried to keep mental records of Draco's naked body. He tried to memorize the feel of Draco's soft skin under his fingertips and the scent of his body.   
  
As Draco thrust into him, Harry lay back on the bed, listening to the nuances of the other boy's moaning as the pace and speed of bodily contact grew more intense. Harry held tightly to him, oblivious to the noise they were creating. The thumping of the bed as the headboard hit against the wall and their groaning was probably attracting the attention of the students below, but Harry was too caught up in enjoying the moment to care.   
  
Lying awake, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco. "That was really good."  
  
"Yeah" breathed Draco sleepily.   
  
Harry's heart was still beating rapidly. As the euphoria wore off, bringing him back to earth, he said, "Draco, I want to let you know that I love you." He waited for a moment. "Draco did you hear what I said?"   
  
He looked down at the other boy, Draco was asleep.   
  
  
*************  
  
In the morning, Harry was able to sneak out of the Slytherin dungeons before anyone awoke. He almost got caught though, when he accidentally tripped over Crabbe, who was asleep in the common room. However, Crabbe was snoring loudly and didn't feel a thing.  
  
When he got back to Gryffindor Tower, he entered the common room to see Dean warming himself by the fireplace. As he walked to his dorm room, a videotape on the table caught his attention.   
  
Harry picked up the video and coughed loudly as he read, "Live, Wild Potter/Malfoy Action." He watched in horror as animated versions of he and Draco gleefully simulated oral sex on one another.   
  
"Dean, what the hell is this?"  
  
Dean sheepishly turned around from the fireplace and looked at him. "That's the tape Peeves was selling."   
  
"You actually bought it?"   
  
"It wasn't just me" said Dean slowly. "A bunch of us got together and purchased it."   
  
"What do you mean `a bunch of us?'"   
  
"It was me, Justin, Neville and Seamus. We asked Ron if he wanted to join us, but he just glared at me."   
  
"Why would you buy something like this, it's sick." Harry made a face as the figures on the box engaged in another sex act. He threw the tape on the table.  
  
"We were just curious" Dean began. "Don't worry, there's nothing on it. We were watching it over at Fred and George's store and we didn't see you guys on the tape. There was something on there called The Little Mermaid. The twins' dad said that it's what the Muggles call a cartoon."   
  
Dean angrily pound his fist into his other hand. "If Peeves wasn't already dead, I would kill him! That tape cost us a lot of money."  
  
"Wait a minute. The twins' store, their dad?"   
  
"Yeah. The twins had a screening of the tape at their store, since their dad was the only one around he possessed a Muggle VCR." Dean laughed to himself. "Man, you and Draco are a real popular couple, cause a lot of people came to the viewing."  
  
Harry just let his mouth drop, as he stared at Dean in astonishment.  
  
  
**********  
  
  
Arriving at home with his father in the afternoon, Draco was glad to be away from the glares and looks of disgust that greeted him in the common room. At the front iron doors, he took a deep breath of air and decided to soak in all the sights of his home. Situated on top of a hill and looming over the town below, the manor looked just as it did when he left for King Cross station, impressive.   
  
He watched as their gardener tended to the lush grounds. He was pruning the Venus flytrap bushes, the same bushes that had eaten their previous gardener.   
  
As he stepped through the door, his mother greeted him. "Draco, you're finally home" she said, a smile spreading across her face.   
Her smile quickly faded when she looked at the tired expression on his face. "Are you feeling all right, you don't look well darling" she said, placing a pale hand on Draco's forehead.   
  
"I'm just a bit exhausted" Draco yawned. "I had a busy night."  
  
"I bet the Slytherins gave you a bit of a goodbye party."  
  
Draco looked down at his feet. "Yeah, it was quite a bash."  
  
"Let's get you unpacked so you can get yourself settled. Now, where is she?" She looked around the room. "Tally!" she yelled. "Where on earth is that good-for-nothing house-elf? Lucius, I told you we should never have taken her in."  
  
She placed her hands on her hips. "She is doing this deliberately. She knows she's supposed to bring in his luggage."  
  
"We could deal with the luggage later. I would like to have a talk with Draco first" said Lucius.  
  
"But, he just got home, can't you talk with him after he's gotten some rest?"  
  
Lucius whipped his head around and glared at her. She began to inch away from him. "I'll go find Tally" she said softly.  
  
Without saying another word, Lucius put his hand on the back of Draco's neck and led him down the long corridor to his study. When they reached the study, Draco's father shoved him into the room and slammed the door behind him.  
  
Draco stumbled to the floor, before getting up. "Father, what's wrong?"   
  
Remaining silent, his father approached him and punched him in the stomach. 


	5. Daddy Dearest

Chapter 5: Daddy Dearest  
  
  
Draco stumbled to the floor, before getting up and saying, "Father, what's wrong?"   
  
But just then his father walked over to him and punched him in the stomach.   
  
The blow knocked the wind out of him, as he struggled for air. Lucius lunged at him again, this time striking the boy in the head. Draco toppled to the floor once more.   
  
"What the hell is going on with you and that Potter boy?" Lucius screamed.   
  
"Nothing. Nothing's going on." Draco slowly got to his feet. He felt the warm blood trickle down the side of his face from where his father's ring had sliced his skin.   
  
"Don't lie to me boy."   
  
"I'm not lying."   
  
"Yes you are."   
  
Lucius pushed the boy down. Draco fell backwards, his head hitting the wall. He stayed slumped against the wall and began to rub the back of his head, checking to see if there was blood on his hands.   
  
His father walked up to him. "So, Potter put a curse on you?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
Lucius knelt down close to his son. "What curse did he use?"   
  
"I don't know, I couldn't hear what he was saying." Draco watched as his father leaned closer to him, waiting for an explanation. "I saw him sneaking around after hours and decided to follow him and see what he was up to. I confronted him in a corridor and threatened to tell on him. That's when he pointed his wand at me and muttered something."   
  
"What happened after that?"   
  
"I just felt my body become seared by something. Something strange was running through my veins. I can't remember what happened after that. But I know I wasn't myself."   
  
Draco took at deep breath and continued his story. "When I heard Peeves' story, I knew that I must have done those things when I was under the control of the spell." He laughed nervously. "I mean, I would never do those things with Harry on my own. I hate him too much."   
  
He looked at his father to see if he believed his story. The expression on the man's face revealed nothing, staying placid and emotionless.   
  
"Why didn't you report Potter's actions to Snape?" asked Lucius.  
  
"What?"   
  
"Why didn't you tell on the rat if he cursed you?"   
  
"I....I didn't want it to become an issue. I didn't want people to think that a Malfoy could be cursed by Potter."   
  
"Instead, you let everyone think that you willingly went to bed with him?" Draco remained quiet.   
  
"When did the spell wear off?" inquired Lucius. "Since you're now thinking clearly, when did he lift the spell?"   
  
"I'm not sure."   
  
"Where were you when you felt like your old self again?"   
  
"I don't remember."   
  
"Do you know the kinds of things he did to you when you were cursed?"   
  
"Peeves says he saw us having intercourse, but I think he was just making it up."   
  
Lucius stood up and turned his back to his son. "I think we can press charges against him."   
  
"For what?"   
  
"Rape." Lucius began to stroke his chin as he paced the office. "In actuality, he raped you. We can press charges against him for that and cursing you. I'll talk to Dumbledore immediately. If he does nothing, then I will go directly to the Ministry."   
  
"Wait. You don't have to do all that."   
  
Lucius stopped stroking his chin and looked down at the boy. "But don't you want to clear the Malfoy name? I don't want people thinking that my son is a poufter."   
  
"But no one thinks that. People at school already know that he bewitched me."   
  
"Then we can file charges against him."   
  
"But Harry didn't rape me."   
  
Lucius stopped walking and remained still. "So, you don't want to press charges huh?" A slight grin came over his face as he walked towards Draco. "Answer me this question. Since when did you start calling Potter by his first name?"   
  
Before Draco would answer, his father kicked him in the ribs. He doubled over in pain, holding his chest and crying out.   
  
Lucius stood over his son's slumped over body. "Get up!"   
  
"I can't. It hurts to move."   
  
"If I tell you to do something, you better do it." He grabbed his son's arms and violently pulled him to his feet. "Stop your damn crying! I will not have a weak, whimpering son." Draco squeezed his eyes tightly, trying not to think about the pain growing in his chest.   
  
His father wrapped his hands around his neck. "Why are you lying to me?" he asked, his hands pressing Draco's head into the wall.   
  
"I'm not father. I swear."  
  
"Yes you are. I could tell the minute you started telling me that ludicrous story of yours. But the thing that was the clincher was when you refused to press charges against the little bastard."  
  
"You were just testing me?"  
  
"Yes. My, what a bright boy you are." He slapped Draco on the cheek. "Do you really think I would publicize the fact that you let Potter have his way with you? Do you know what that bitch Rita Skeeter would do if she heard about all of this?"   
  
"That's the same reason I didn't want to press any charges. I knew that it would cause trouble for you. I didn't want you to face the repercussions of my mistake."  
  
"That's very considerate of you." Lucius released Draco's neck and walked away, pacing in circles. He suddenly turned around. "Do you have feelings for Potter?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I've heard some disturbing things that would lead me to think otherwise." Lucius glared at him. "I've heard reports that you might have taken a liking to Potter. That you've even been nice to him."  
  
"Yes. It's true that I've stopped teasing him. That's because you told me not show any hatred towards him. That it wouldn't look good, since the wizarding world worships him."  
  
"I did say that. But I never meant for you to become his best friend." Lucius began to clench his hands into fists. "Sources have told me that you've been sneaking out late at night to meet Potter, is that not true?"  
  
"Who ever these sources are, they are lying to you father."  
  
"These sources happen to be the sons of two very respectable men. They have no reason to lie to me. They told me everything they had seen and heard over the past year. They said that you remained quite calm when the story about you and Potter broke. You did little to dissuade the rumors."  
  
"Father, these sources are obviously fooling you. I said nothing about the incident because I just wanted everything to die down." He got to his feet and approached his father. "Please believe me."  
  
"I'll believe whomever I want." Lucius walked over to this desk. He opened the top drawer and pulled out his dagger.  
  
Draco took a step back. He eyed his father as he ran the blade against his hand.   
  
Lucius put the dagger down and reached into the drawer once more. Draco could see him holding a small bottle in his hand. He watched as his father walked towards him.   
  
"Open your damn mouth," Lucius said, prying the boy's mouth open. He stuck his fingers in his son's mouth as he tilted his head backwards. "If you bite me, I'll fuckin' kill you." Draco began to cough as he felt something drip down his throat.   
  
Lucius squeezed his nose shut. "Swallow all of it." He then backed away and pointed his wand at the boy. Draco hit the wall with great force as the beam of green light from his father's wand struck his chest.   
  
"Now Draco, did Potter put a spell on you?"  
  
Draco stared at his father with a blank look on his face. He opened his mouth and said, "No."   
  
"Do you have feelings for Potter?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Lucius gritted his teeth when he heard that word escape from his son's lips, for his worst nightmare was coming true.   
  
"Tell me when these feelings first developed."  
  
Lucius sat on his desk with his arms crossed as his son began to talk. "I've had feelings for him for the past four years. But I never acted upon them until last year."   
  
"What happened last year?"  
  
"I kissed him for the first time." Lucius contorted his face and shook his head. "He was walking out of Potions class alone and entered a secluded hallway. That's when I grabbed him and pulled him into an empty classroom. I think he was surprised, but never once did he try to escape as I forced him against the wall. I saw something flicker in his eyes and that's when I kissed him. His mouth stayed pressed tightly together at first, but he soon kissed me back."  
  
"Did you make love to Potter?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did you enjoy it, you little whore?"  
  
"Yes, immensely. Both times," muttered Draco.   
  
His father just stared at him with wide, startled eyes. "You slept with Potter twice?"  
  
"Yes sir. The first time I slept with Harry was on Christmas eve. We both decided that it would be the perfect night to consummate our relationship. I wanted to make our first night together special. I wanted it to be a great night for him."  
  
Lucius looked away as he contorted his face.   
  
"He was still a virgin and was nervous," Draco continued. "He worried that he would not be able to please me. But he was wrong. What he lacked in experience, he made up with his enthusiasm. The second time was last night and he was more passionate."   
  
"Do you love Potter?" asked Lucius. Draco did not answer.  
  
"Do you?" he asked again.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Lucius had heard all he could take and lifted the spell off Draco. The boy immediately collapsed onto the floor. "You are a disgrace to the family! I can't believe I have a son who would whore himself out to Potter!" he yelled, his face turning red.   
  
Draco began to back away as his father approached him. "I didn't want to believe Crabbe and Goyle," Lucius stated. "I was outraged when they suggested that you were fond of Potter. But I guess they were right all along."  
  
As his father took another step towards him, Draco began to crawl under the mahogany desk. His father stopped him from escaping by stomping hard on his back with his boot. Draco's face crashed into the floor, causing him to bite down on his tongue. Lucius lifted his foot and brought it down on Draco's back once more.   
  
"Father stop!" cried Draco as he rolled onto his side. His father ignored his pleas and began to savagely kick him in the chest. Draco screamed.  
  
"Draco! What's going on in there?" called his mother.  
  
While she pounded on the door, Lucius kicked Draco in the face, causing the boy's head to violently whip backwards. He leaned down and grabbed Draco by the hair, lifting his bloody head off the ground.   
  
Pressing his lips close to the boy's ear, he snarled, "This is between us. If you tell anyone what went on in this room, I'll kill you. You just keep your mother believing that Potter bewitched you." He let Draco's head drop to the floor and walked over to the door.   
  
"What's happening?" asked Narcissa when her husband opened the door.  
  
"My dear, why are you so hysterical?"  
  
Narcissa looked over her husband's shoulder. "Oh my God," she gasped as she caught a glimpse of her son. "What did you do?"   
  
Lucius looked at his wife, his expression remaining calm. "This is between us men and it does not concern you."  
  
"But he's hurt."   
  
"Must I tell you again?" he bellowed. Narcissa did not say another word.   
  
Lucius looked at his two house-elves and then at his wife. "Draco is not to be helped out of this room, nor is he to have any meals today. Is that understood?"   
  
"Yes sir," replied their house-elf Willa and her daughter Tally.  
  
Lucius glared at his wife. "I didn't hear you say anything."  
  
Narcissa looked away. "Yes," she finally muttered under her breath.  
  
Lucius clapped his hands together. "Well, all this excitement is making me hungry. I can't wait to see what Bowe has prepared for us." He turned around and stared at his son. "And you. You clean up that damn mess before I get back!"   
  
Taking one last glimpse of her son's unmoving body, Narcissa allowed Lucius to lead her off to the dining room. As Lucius walked away, he left a small trail of blood on the marble floor, the outcome of his boot coming into contact with his son's face.  
  
When Lucius and Narcissa were out of sight, Tally peered into the study and looked at Draco. She let out a small squeak when she saw the boy lying on the floor, the blood from his face collecting into a velvety red pool on the white rug.   
  
As she entered the room, she heard her mother say, "Tally, you heard what Master Malfoy said. Now come back here."  
  
Ignoring her mother's words, she crept up to Draco and knelt down next to him. She ripped some fabric from her pillowcase dress and began to wipe the blood off his swollen face.   
  
Draco grabbed her small wrist. "Get out of here!" he yelled. Tally screamed and ran out of the room.  
  
Draco sat up on the floor and began to examine his injuries. He leaned against his father's desk as he gingerly tried to get to his feet. He had trouble breathing, as his ribs throbbed in pain every time he tried to inhale and exhale. The excruciating pain in his chest told him that his father had broken one of his ribs, again. That was not the first beating he had taken from his father and it certainly would not be the last. 


	6. Mistaken Identity

Chapter 6: Mistaken Identity  
  
  
  
  
Harry stayed pressed against the wall, as Draco brought his body hard on him, rubbing his erection into his pelvis. Draco's mouth came down on him once more, attacking his lips.   
  
The blonde's kisses came hot and fast; his mouth swiftly moved across Harry's face, before it clamped down on a fleshy earlobe. "God, I've missed you so much," Draco breathed.  
  
  
He unbuttoned Harry's shirt and ran his hands up and down that hot, bare skin. His fingers swiftly traveled down the other boy's chest, making their way inside his trousers.   
  
Harry let out a gasp as those fingers found their destination. Soon, Draco's warm mouth traveled down the same path. Harry closed his eyes when a sudden heat engulfed him. He arched his back and moaned.  
  
  
His cries grew so loud, that it awoke him. His eyes snapped open, as he wondered if his aunt and uncle had heard him. He listened for any signs of their footsteps coming down the hall; he heard nothing. He closed his eyes once more, as his right hand moved under the bed covers and into his boxers, relieving the tension that was building up in his body.   
  
  
This had become a ritual for him. That dream always brought on his arousal, which he always alleviated. However, he was often left feeling empty and craving more.   
  
  
These dreams would not have occurred if Draco had not stood him up that night in Hogsmeade, forcing him to sleep alone in the hotel room, cuddling a pillow.  
  
  
  
*******  
  
  
  
  
Harry stood by the window of his small bedroom, abiding his time. His large clothes hung loosely on his body. He lifted a thin and pale arm up for examination; he had grown thinner that summer.   
  
He closed his eyes as his stomach began to grumble. "Only two more hours," he said to himself. He would soon be at The Burrow, enjoying a real meal for the first time in months.  
  
  
He stepped away from the window and searched the room for his things, making sure he left nothing behind. He opened a large napkin, pulled out a piece of cheese and took a bite; that meal would have to sustain him until Authur Weasley came to pick him up.  
  
  
  
*******  
  
  
  
  
Molly Weasley walked over to the table. "Here you go honey." She placed the shepherd's pie in front of Harry. "I want you to finish every last bit of it." A pained look spread on her face as she touched Harry's hair. "You're nothing but skin and bones. But I'll fatten you up."   
  
  
She reached for the large bag at her feet. "I have to get going and deliver this food to your father. He's been so busy these past days; he sometimes forgets to eat. You Know Who killed another Muggle last night, so of course the Ministry is going haywire."  
  
  
A weary expression came on her face as she looked around the table. "Will you kids be all right by yourselves for a couple of hours?"  
  
  
"Mom, I think we're quite capable of taking care of ourselves," said Ron.  
  
  
"Okay, fine. Harry, if you want some more pie, there's another one on the counter for you."  
  
  
Mrs. Weasley went to the fireplace and disappeared, leaving Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione at the kitchen table. The four teens had the house all to themselves, since Percy had long moved into his own place, and Fred and George were at their joke shop.  
  
Ron closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. "I can't believe we're going to be starting our seventh year in a couple of days. Finally, I get to boss all the little kids around." He reached over and jabbed Ginny in the arm with his finger.  
  
  
She quickly pulled her arm away. "Shut up, Ron. You're only a year older than me, so get over it." She adverted her attention back to Harry.  
  
  
Hermione leaned over to Ron and whispered something to him. A smile began to spread on his lips as her mouth moved against his ear.   
  
  
Harry brought the fork to his mouth, but he did not eat. He eyed the couple across from him, watching as they touched one another and spoke in their secret baby talk that only they understood. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ginny's gaze flicker from the couple to him and back again.  
  
  
When he and Hermione pulled apart, Ron looked at Harry and Ginny. "We're going for a little walk." As they got up, he wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and led her to the back door.  
  
  
"I thought they'd never leave," said Ginny. She moved her seat closer to Harry and draped her arms around his neck. She then sat with her elbows on the table, watching him eat. "So, did you have a good birthday?"  
  
  
"As good a birthday as I could have at the Dursleys'."  
  
  
"Did they give you anything?"  
  
  
"My Aunt back-handed me."  
  
  
"Why?"  
  
  
"She made me mow the lawn and clean out the gutters, and when I suggested that Dudley could also benefit from some physical activity, she slapped me."   
  
  
Ginny's hand rose and touched Harry's cheek. "My poor baby." She then leaned forward and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.  
  
  
Harry moved away from her. "My mouth is full of food."  
  
  
"I don't care." She leaned forward again and kissed him on the lips. She pulled away and began to wipe the crumbs off her own lips. The two of them stared at each other and chuckled.  
  
  
  
"Did you like the gift I sent you?" she asked.  
  
  
Harry gazed down at his half eaten meal. "Yeah, it was nice."  
  
  
She stared at his bare neck for a moment. "How come you're not wearing it?"  
  
  
Harry swallowed hard, trying to think up an answer that wouldn't hurt her feelings. "I'm not really a necklace kinda person," he finally said. In actuality, he thought the gold chain she had owled him made him look like a gigolo, but he decided to keep that opinion to himself.   
  
  
  
"Oh," she murmured weakly. Her head hung low, as she studied her hands.   
  
  
He put down his fork and touched her arm. "The necklace was lovely. I'll wear it on the first day of school so everyone will see the great present my girlfriend bought me." As their eyes met, he smiled at her.   
  
  
Placing her fingers in his arms, she began to trace his skin with her nails. "We have the house all to ourselves. Ron and Hermione won't be back for awhile and my mother will be gone all day." Her dark eyes sparkled wickedly. "We can go to my room, if you want. Or we could go to your room, which ever is most comfortable for you."  
  
  
"I don't want Percy's pictures to watch us, so I think your room will do."   
  
  
  
  
Ginny took Harry's hand in hers and led him up the rickety stairs to her bedroom.   
  
When they entered the room, the pictures of her on the wall began to wave at Harry and blow him kisses. She took off her shoes and positioned herself on the bed, waiting for him to join her side.   
  
  
But Harry did not go to the bed; he walked over to her vanity and picked up the picture of the two of them. The photograph was taken a few weeks before summer break, and showed Ginny hugging him tightly, a big smile on her face, while he looked uncomfortable.   
  
  
He felt her arms wrap around his waist from behind. She rested her head on his back and said, "I love that picture. I'm going to buy a huge fame for it. I'm having a frame made that says `Ginny loves Harry.'"  
  
  
Harry didn't say anything; he just put the picture down and closed his eyes. He felt her hands as they crept underneath his shirt and began to rub his chest.   
  
  
He grabbed her hands and pushed them away. He turned around to face her. "I don't think we should be doing this. I don't want to do it in your house. I'll feel like I'm disrespecting your family, especially Ron."  
  
  
"Ron doesn't care. He already knows we've had sex."   
  
  
  
  
His face tensed. "How would Ron know about that? Did you tell him?"  
  
  
"I told Hermione and I'm pretty sure she told him." She looked up at him and noticed the expression on his face. "I didn't intentionally tell her, it just came out. We were talking about you and she asked me if our relationship was serious. So I told her that we've made love. Please don't be mad."  
  
  
"I'm not mad. I just don't like people knowing my private business."  
  
  
"Harry, I don't care who knows about us. Why should we be ashamed about what we've done? We're in a relationship, and are in love." A sly smile spread on her face as she reached for the belt on his jeans. "Enough talk about other people, let's get back to you and me."   
  
  
He grabbed her hands and pushed them away from his zipper. "Ginny, don't."  
  
  
She leaned towards him. "We don't have to make love. We can just lie on the bed and have a cuddle."  
  
  
"Listen, I'm really tired. I didn't get much sleep last night. I think I'm gonna go back to my room and lay down for awhile."  
  
  
"Are you okay? Do you want me to lay down with you?" She tried wrapping her arms around him again, but he moved away from her, heading towards the door.  
  
  
  
"No, I just wanna be alone."  
  
  
After he had walked out the door, she threw herself on the bed and covered her face with a pillow. Some of the pictures on the wall began to cry.  
  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
On their last week of freedom, the four teens went to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies. Ron went to get fitted for new robes, since he had hit a growth spurt and was now over six feet tall.   
  
  
The four of them were renting rooms in the Leaky Cauldron, courtesy of the Weasley family. Mr. Weasley even hired a car to transport them to King's Cross station for their first day of school. Since Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was such a success, the family had more money to indulge on their children.  
  
  
They decided to celebrate their last night of summer by having dinner together at an outdoor cafe.   
  
  
"I don't know what I want," said Ginny as she looked over the menu. "I think I'll have some of what Harry's having." She turned and looked at him. "Do you mind if I share with you?"  
  
  
"I don't." He trailed off when he noticed a familiar figure. He squinted into the crowd of people walking by.   
  
  
She tapped him on the shoulder. "What's wrong? Who are you looking at?" Before she got her answer, he bolted from his seat and took off running.   
  
  
His heart beat excitedly as he sprinted down the street, weaving in and out of the crowd, getting closer to his target. Perhaps he's shopping for supplies for Durmstrang, he thought. Whatever the reason, they were finally going to meet after six long months apart.  
  
  
"Draco," said Harry, tapping the blonde man on the shoulder. The man turned around. He wasn't Draco.  
  
  
"Sorry." Harry slowly headed back to the restaurant, but stopped before he reached the table. His three friends were looking at him; they had witnessed the whole scene. His eyes met Ginny's and then he looked away. He turned around on his heels and walked down the street.  
  
  
  
  
*********  
  
  
  
  
Harry went back to the Leaky Cauldron after a couple of hours of walking around; realizing that it was getting late and he had nowhere to go. As he walked to his room, he halted by his door, debating whether he should visit Ginny.   
  
He decided that he would pay her a visit, make sure she was all right. Plus, he had something that he wanted to give her.   
  
When he reached her room, he could hear crying. He pressed his ear to the door and heard Hermione's voice.   
  
  
"It's okay, just give him some time," Hermione said.  
  
  
Harry hesitated for a moment, before knocking on the door. Immediately, the voices on the other end of the door stopped talking. Hermione opened the door and poked her head out.  
  
  
He looked over Hermione's shoulder and saw Ginny sitting on the bed watching him. Her eyes were red and she had a box of tissues in her hand.  
  
  
He looked back at Hermione. "Do you mind if I talk to Ginny alone?"  
  
  
"No problem." Just as she was leaving the room, she leaned close to him and whispered, "Please don't hurt her, she's in a very fragile state."   
  
  
Harry walked into the room and locked the door behind him. He leaned against the dresser and looked at her.  
  
  
"Where did you go?" she asked.   
  
  
"Nowhere, just walking around."  
  
  
  
He went over to the bed and sat down next to her. She averted his gaze and began to play with a loose piece of thread on her nightgown. "If you want your space, I'll understand," she began. "I don't want you to feel like I'm suffocating you or anything."  
  
  
"You're not suffocating me."  
  
  
"Sometimes I feel like I am." The tears began to swell up in her eyes. "I'm beginning to feel like you don't like having me around."   
  
  
"That's not true." He reached out and rubbed her shoulder. "Come on, please don't cry."   
  
  
"Then how come every time I try to touch you, you move away from me? Like today, I tried holding your hand and you pushed my hand away." The tears now fell down her cheeks. "I know you still like him. That's why you ran after that guy tonight."  
  
  
Harry lifted his hand to her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks with his fingers. "I like you. I'm sorry if I've been pushing you away. I've had a lot on my mind lately. I got another death threat from Volde-" he paused. "I mean You Know Who the other day."  
  
  
"I didn't know that. Did you tell Dumbledore?"  
  
  
"Yes. But I don't want to talk about that now." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small package, handing it to her.   
  
  
Ginny opened the box and eyed the object. "Oh Harry."  
  
  
"I saw you looking at it in the store window this morning, so I went back and got it for you." He took the silver ring from its box and placed it on her finger.   
  
  
She lifted her hand up to the light, watching the diamond sparkle.  
  
  
"I'm really sorry about what happened tonight. I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, placing his hand on top of hers. "I don't want to see you in pain cause you're a wonderful--" Ginny's mouth landed on his.  
  
  
  
She entwined a fist in his hair, holding his head while she kissed him deeper. Her hot eager mouth held tight onto him, her tongue gliding against his.   
  
  
He stood up and pulled the nightgown over her head. While he was standing, her hands went to his jeans, unzipping them and sliding them down his body.   
  
  
After unhooking her bra, he brought his lips down on her mouth. She let her head fall back as his mouth trailed down her throat, before lingering on her chest.   
  
  
Desperate to feel his skin, she pulled at his shirt, getting it over his head without unbuttoning it.   
  
  
He pulled her panties down past her ankles, and then tossed them into the corner of the room.  
  
  
As she lay on the bed, he took off his boxers. He lay next to her, enjoying the feel of her skin against his. He delayed his pleasure for as long as possible, but his desires needed to be satisfied and he eventually rolled on top of her.   
  
  
He looked down at her face and at those dark brown eyes staring back at him. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them; those eyes were still brown.   
  
As he began to move his body, he asked, "Am I hurting you?" His experience in making love to a girl was limited and he feared causing her pain. She didn't reply, but clung to him, her mouth slightly agape.   
  
He kissed her lips again. Closing his eyes, he pictured himself pressed against that wall, scorching hands and lips moving against his skin, that deep voice whispering endearments in his ear. He imagined that figure kneeling before him, his mouth and lips creating such pleasure.   
  
  
  
Harry's thrusting grew more frenzied as he became consumed by his thoughts. He was brought back to reality when he heard Ginny cry out in his ear just moments before he heaved into his own orgasm.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
He fumbled around in the dark room, trying to find where he had tossed his clothes. He got dressed as silently as possible, not wanting to wake her. Even though it was still early morning, he wanted to get back to his own room before everyone else awoke. He didn't want Ron to see him leaving his little sister's room.   
  
  
When he got back to his room, he nearly jumped back when he saw a large black owl sitting on his bed. 


	7. The Warning

The owl awoke and stared up at him, her alert and bright eyes following his every move. Thinking he was dreaming, Harry closed his eyes tightly, sure that when he opened them she would not be there. A flicker of annoyance flashed in the owl's tiny eyes as she spread her wings, signally for him to rid her of the package tied around her legs.   
  
The sight of her sitting there reminded Harry so much of the past. Oh the past, he thought. He was then taken back to several months before at Hogwarts, when the owl's appearance on his bed was frequent. It seemed to take him forever to dash up all those flights of stairs to the Gryffindor Tower after his lessons, wishing the corridors were bigger so he could easily make his way around the other students; who always seemed to walk slower on days he expected a delivery. And every other day, true to form, the eagle owl would be on his bed; sometimes ravaging his pillows with her sharp claws to show her anger for having to wait for him.  
  
Harry would often barricade himself in the safe enclosure of his bed curtains, as he read what Draco had written. His eyes would slowly wash over the letters, trying not to skip a single word, as the blonde went into detail about his daily activities.  
  
From the letters, Harry learned that Draco's days were spent mostly at Malfoy Manor. A powerful wizard, a man long renowned as a premiere expert on Dark Arts, tutored the blonde in the manor's library.   
  
Draco's life now revolved around learning curses, and practicing quidditch on the family's massive pitch. His father was no doubt determined to have his son be a star quidditch player when he transferred to Durmstrang in the fall.  
  
Also occupying the blonde's time was attending the numerous "charity" functions his parents threw at their estate - the balls that Harry would read about in the Daily Prophet during breakfast. A grimace spread on Harry's face, as he thought how the money raised as these balls often went to aid Voldemort.   
  
The green-eyed boy had cut out pictures from the Daily Prophet that featured Draco – whose image gave Harry a half smile when his parents weren't looking. But the photographs were all gone now, as the bag they were stored in was discarded into the bin by his aunt. The argument that had ensued that day between Harry and his aunt was the cause of his dramatic weight loss that summer.   
  
Harry approached the bed and sat down next to the owl. He reached out to smooth her ruffled feathers, but hesitated. He was quick to learn that she was not so fond of his touch, as when his fingers were greeted by her sharp beak during her first initial visit to him.   
  
As Harry's hand hovered nervously over her head, the owl gave out an ear-piercing squawk that startled him; she clearly did not want to stay any longer. The young man's hands cautiously made their way to her legs, weary of her claws. When he cut the package from the bird's legs, she hopped to the window, gave him one last look and flew away.   
  
  
*************  
  
  
Draco stood by the large open windows of his bedroom, pacing back and forth and casting a watchful eye towards the night sky. He began to wring his hands as he wondered if his owl had made her journey all right. But the thing most on his mind was whether his father would be awake at that very hour and witness her return. Lucius would surely become suspicious as to why his son was sending mail in the wee hours of the morning.   
  
  
Draco was about to close his windows and go back to bed, when he saw her gliding through the night air, her long wings flapping effortlessly. She flew into his room and landed on his bed. When he tried to touch her, she moved away from him; the glare was evident in her eyes.   
  
The blonde reached into the top drawer of his nightstand and grabbed a few owl treats. Stretching out his hand to her, Draco watched as her eyes darted from his face, to the treats and back again. She finally succumbed, as her hunger forced her to approach him. When he attempted to pet her, she snapped at him, before flying away once more. He watched as she headed left to the manor's lush orchards, where she liked to hunt for rabbits or any other small animal she could catch.  
  
Pulling himself onto his large four-poster bed, Draco brought the satin sheets about his body. He breathed a sigh of relief as he thought of the trouble he had gone through to get the present to Harry. A smile crept onto his face, thinking how at that very moment Harry would be opening the small box that contained his gift - which was by no account measly in price. To afford the handcrafted watch, Draco had to ask his father for an increase in his already hefty allowance. Hearing that the money was to be used to buy Pansy Parkinson a necklace, Lucius was more than happy to give his son all the money he wanted and allowed the blonde access to his owl once more.   
  
Draco held his breath when he heard footsteps approaching his room. Thinking his father was checking up on him, he silently scurried to close his windows. These late night surveillance checks had now become a regular in the boy's life, ever since a staff member caught him sneaking out of the house to Hogsmeade.  
  
The footsteps stopped by his door, paused and then scampered away. Draco knew it was not his father; it must have been their young love struck house-elf, who liked to sneak into his room late at night. He had often been startled when he awoke at night to find her standing by his bed, her large eyes staring at him.   
  
As he lay back on his bed, his heavy eyelids began to drop. A contented smile crept onto his lips as he drifted off to sleep. His plan was working out perfectly; he was finally able to communicate with Harry and soon they would be meeting each other for the first time in months.  
  
  
  
**********   
  
  
Harry did not sleep at all that night; the events of a few hours ago had excited him too much. Although his face showed the tell tale signs of fatigue, he was feeling unusually refreshed. He got up from the bed and began to flit around the room, collecting his things.   
  
As he hummed a tone to himself, he was startled to feel a hand running down the length of his back. He turned around and stared into Ginny's brown eyes. She greeted him with her usual smile and embraced him. Being in such a delightful mood himself, he responded wholeheartedly to her touch.   
  
She looked up him, a tinge of surprise on her face. "You seem to be in good spirits this morning."  
  
"I had a good night," he responded in a chirpy voice.  
  
The smile on her face got wider. "So did I." Her hands moved to his back and trickled down to the back pockets of his jeans. "You were great last night," she whispered, her eyes still glistening with pleasure from their late night tryst.  
  
Harry pulled away from her when he realized that their car would be coming to take them to King's Cross station in a few minutes. "I have to take a shower before we leave," he said. After taking his toiletries out of his trunk, he began to undress.   
  
As he pulled the jeans down his hips, he turned around to find Ginny leaning against the wall, her eyes glued to his body. Although they've had sex on several occasions, she had never seen the full extent of his naked body; the darkness and the bed sheets had always hindered her view.   
  
"Why don't you go down stairs and have your breakfast," he suggested, hoping she would take the hint and give him some privacy.  
  
"I've already had it."  
  
His hands stayed frozen on his jeans, as her eyes paralyzed him. "I kinda feel uncomfortable with you staring at me like that," he finally said, realizing that she did not respond well to subtlety.   
  
"Why are you so shy? You weren't shy last night." She moved from her perch and walked up to him, placing a light kiss on his cheek. Ever so slowly, she made her way out of the room, looking back every now and then to get a glimpse of his flesh.  
  
  
********   
  
The train ride to Hogwarts was a rather subdued affair, devout of the chattering and commotion over lost toads that had been prevalent in the previous years.  
  
Ron entered their compartment, carrying an armful of chocolates and other sweets. He dropped the candy onto the seat. "It looks like less students are returning to school this year," he said as he tore into a chocolate frog package. "I guess Dumbledore's letters about taking extra security measures against You-Know-Who weren't convincing enough."   
  
He took his seat next to Hermione. "Our compartment is the only full one on the whole train. The other ones are either empty or have one or two people in them."  
  
"How many people are actually here?" asked Hermione, as she picked at the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, trying not to get any vomit flavored ones like last time.  
  
"Most of the Gryffindors have made it back, like I had predicted. There are some Puffs and Ravenclaws around, but there's hardly any Slytherins. I've only spotted a handful of them." He snorted loudly. "They've probably all transferred to Durmstrang to train to be good little Death Eaters."  
  
He grabbed a handful of Hermione's beans and popped them into his mouth. "But I don't know why everyone's so afraid to come to school. You-Know-Who is always sending out empty threats. "  
  
"Ron," whispered Hermione from the corner of her mouth, "I don't think we should be talking about this."  
  
The redhead apparently didn't hear her and continued with his banter. "It's not like he's going to make the school explode--"   
  
Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs. She leaned close to his ear and uttered in a hushed voice, "Don't talk about stuff like that in front of Harry."   
  
Harry continued looking out the window, watching as the green landscape whizzed by. He had been only half listening to Ron and Hermione's conversation. Normally such talk of Voldemort would have put him in a dour mood - his thoughts echoing with images of himself being bludgeoned to death, as Voldemort had promised - but today was different. He reached into his pocket and fingered the cool metal object that lay there, feeling the rhythmic ticking as it thumped against his fingertips.  
  
Ginny pressed her body against his and placed her hand on his thigh. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes as her fingers flickered along his leg. But he soon flinched when her fingers got uncomfortable close to his crotch.  
  
He looked down at the beaming smile she bestowed on him. He forced his lips into a grin and then quickly turned his head.   
  
Her hand rose to his cheek as she directed his gaze towards her once more. His attention fully on her, she mouthed, "I love you."  
  
He pulled away from her, as he grew uncomfortable by her show of sentiment. He looked away before her longing eyes could plead with him to repeat those same endearments to her.   
  
As the onslaught of her stare became unrelenting, Harry got up from his seat. "Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom." But he didn't go to the restroom; he decided to take a stroll around the train. As he passed countless compartments, he saw many familiar Gryffindor faces and even spotted a rare Slytherin, who greeted him with a glare.   
  
As he walked by, he overheard a group of first years as they excitedly talked amongst themselves. A pained expression crossed his face as he observed them; those days of feeling carefree were long gone for him.  
  
Making sure that no one else was around, Harry pulled out his new pocket watch and admired it. Made of silver and trimmed with gold, it was able to tell him the time in any given country at that moment. Although the silver trinket was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship, it was made much more precious to him because of its sender.   
  
As he walked back to join his friends, Ginny grabbed him by the hips and pushed him against the wall. "I knew you weren't going to the restroom," she said. "You just said that to fool Ron and Hermione, didn't you?"   
  
He shook his head absentmindedly, thinking how he had actually tried to escape her and her enormous need for constant physical contact. He forced a smile on his face as he looked down at her.   
  
The warmth of her body soon swamped him as her hands encircled his waist. She rested her head against his chest and fingered the buttons on his shirt. "You make me so happy," she murmured, in a contented voice. "I think it was fate that brought us together; you were fretting over finals and I just happened to be there to console you."  
  
Harry's thoughts took him back to that fateful night in the common room where she had found him in front of the fireplace. However, the cause of his grief was not his finals; his blotched meeting with Draco was what consumed him, causing him to brood in his favorite chair.  
  
Harry looked down at the auburn haired girl with some fondness as he remembered how she had gone to great lengths to alleviate his distress that night, even giving him a massage.  
  
Ginny's hand rose to Harry's neck as she began to play with his necklace. "Did you show Ron and Hermione your new gift?" she asked, lifting the chain a few inches from his neck to admire it.  
  
"Not yet." He had suddenly gotten a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Ron would react to the sight of the thick gold chain – he hadn't tucked the necklace inside his shirt for nothing.  
  
Ginny released the chain from her grasp and looked up at him, happiness twinkling in the depths of her eyes. "It was really romantic when we made love under the stars, don't you think?"  
  
"Yes," Harry uttered slowly. The massage she had given him that night brought about his immediate arousal, which later caused them to venture to the astronomy tower.   
  
The auburn haired girl bit down on her lip. "You don't think I'm a slag for sleeping with you so quickly, do you?"  
  
He lowered his head and brought his lips down on her forehead. "No," he muttered against her skin, "I don't think that." Although he did not judge her actions nor think disrespectfully of her, he cursed himself for not having more control over his desires that night. That one single act of lust had permanently sealed him in Ginny's eyes as her boyfriend. From that night on, she became persistent in pursuing a relationship with him.   
  
Harry was brought back to the present when he felt Ginny kissing him. From the corner of his eyes, he could see several giggling Hufflepuffs poking their head out their compartment to stare at them. Never one for public displays of affection, Harry quickly pulled away.   
  
"I think we should be getting back," he said. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her back to their compartment.  
  
  
  
***********   
  
  
  
Harry looked at himself in the mirror, inspecting the way the green silk shirt draped his body. Draco had been right; the garment did bring out his eyes. He buckled the belt around the trousers that Draco had sent him, although he thought they were a bit snug. He knelt down, trying to stretch them out, but they seemed to grow tighter on him, going into every crevice. These clothes had never seen the light of day, as they were kept confined in the same package Draco had sent them in.   
  
He began to run his fingers though his hair, which was more manageable due to the spell he had used earlier that night. Satisfied with his appearance, he walked downstairs, all the while tugging and pulling at the trousers.   
  
In the common room, he settled into his favorite chair in front of the fireplace. He shot a nervous glance towards the staircase when he heard a creaking noise, wondering who else could be awake at one in the morning. He leaned forward in his chair to get a better look at the stairs, but only saw darkness. Convinced he was alone, he turned his attention once more to his locks, but not because it was messy; he simply needed something to do with his jittery hands as he awaited the arrival of the other boy.   
  
When he looked back at the fireplace, he nearly jumped out of his seat; he was no longer alone. Draco's face was now staring back at him from the fire. Although Harry's heart was pounding against his chest, he sat still as the other boy's eyes washed over him. The stare that he received from the blonde was intense, burning into him and making him feel uneasy.   
  
Harry scratched his head and looked away for a moment, casting nervous glances up at the other boy. He was able to see that Draco had changed so much in the past couple of months. The blonde's face was a lot fuller than the last time they had seen one another. The pale and sickly appearance that was present on their last night together was now replaced with a healthy glow. The red and yellow flames flickering around Draco's head cast a jewel-toned hue to his creamy complexion. Harry also noticed that the other boy's hair had grown longer, now coming to his shoulders and obscuring the right side of Draco's face.  
  
Harry straightened his shirt collar and ran his hands down the legs of his trousers in a vain attempt to get Draco to comment on his appearance. He glanced up to see if the blonde was watching; he was, but he did not utter a word.  
  
The uncomfortable silence loomed between them for what seem like an eternity. Harry racked his brain for something to say, but all words had escaped him at that time.   
  
"You're in a lot of danger," Draco finally said, his voice deep and husky. His face was rigid and serious as he looked at the green-eyed boy. "Voldemort has been meeting with the Death Eaters and they've come up with a plan to kill you."  
  
What else is new, thought Harry. He'd been inundated with threats that summer; a day hadn't gone by when a raven didn't show at his aunt and uncle's doorstep, bearing a death threat.  
  
Draco drew his brows together as he eyed the placid expression on Harry's face. Draco gave Harry a few minutes to respond, thinking that the green-eyed boy needed some time to digest the information. When the calm on the other boy's face persisted, Draco grew frustrated. "Harry, did you hear what I said?"  
  
"Yes, I heard you," Harry responded, in a voice that was almost unconcerned. He lowered his head as his finger began to trace the patterns on the armchair.  
  
"Then why are you so calm?" Draco nearly shouted. Realizing that he might awake some of the other students, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "This is a very serious threat here. They have been gathering at the Manor and have laid out their plans to ambush you. They're planning their attack for around Christmas." Draco dropped his head, his hair blocking his face from Harry's view. "You should really be careful," he murmured in a muffled voice. "If something happened to you…"  
  
"Don't worry," Harry reassured him, "I'll be fine." A tinge of concern was now evident on Harry's face – not from the fear of being killed by Voldemort, but for the distress that he heard in Draco's voice. "I'll give Dumbledore the information immediately. And thanks for—" Harry suddenly stopped talking. "How do you know about this plan? Aren't you at Durmstrang?"  
  
"Yes. But my father keeps me updated on all the latest happenings."  
  
"Oh, I see." As both boys grew quiet once more, a question loomed in the back of Harry's mind; he had been thinking about it for several months now. He had been too shy at the beginning of their conversation to say anything about it, but he now opened his mouth and asked, "How come you didn't meet me at Hogsmeade?" Before Draco could answer, he added quickly, "And I just want to let you know that I'm not angry at you for not showing up."  
  
If truth were told, Harry was more disappointed than anything else. He had spent an exorbitant amount of time picking the hotel and making sure the room was decorated with the right accoutrements that would be conducive to romance and a night of love making.   
  
"I did attempt to meet you," Draco replied, "but I got caught. When my father found out about me sneaking out, he took away my owl. I just got her back the night I sent you the birthday—" The blonde abruptly stopped talking and looked over his shoulder. He then began to talk to someone that Harry could not see.  
  
Harry leaned forward in his chair so he could hear what Draco was saying, but the blonde was talking in a low voice. Draco then faced him once more. "Harry, I have to get going. I can't talk anymore." He opened his mouth to say something else, but hesitated. "It was nice seeing you again," the blonde finally said in a weak voice.  
  
Harry wanted to say something back to the other boy, but he found himself unable to talk and wound up staring blankly at him. He looked down as he tried to get the courage to say what he was feeling in his heart. When he gazed up at the fire, Draco was gone.   
  
Harry remained seated in his chair a long time afterwards, hoping that the other boy would return. But Draco never did. His hands curled into a fist and he brought it down on the arm of his chair, as he regretted not having spoken in time. He lowered his head and brought his hand to his face, thinking of how he would just have to wait for another meeting to express his feelings to the other boy. 


	8. What About Ginny?

Chapter 8: What About Ginny?   
  
  
  
The air was cold on that drizzly February day and the window to the seventh-year Gryffindor boys' dorm was frosted over with a thin glaze of ice that had begun to form there some days earlier. Resting on his bed, the covers pulled up to his chin, was Harry. Looking gaunt and weak as he slept, he muttered incoherently every now and then, and tossed about on the bed. His breathing was erratic and jetted out in a muffled pant, due to the pain he was still suffering from his past battle.   
  
It had been a great melee indeed, taking place just when Draco had forecast: during the Christmas break. But the young man had somehow managed to stay alive, despite being outnumbered. The scene that was left behind was gruesome indeed, with bodies laying here and there on the platform. The Ministry was now working overtime to erase images of that battle from the minds of the dozens of Muggles who unfortunately happened to be present at King's Cross Station on that day.   
  
After Voldemort had fallen to the ground, his body motionless, the Death Eaters had run from the seen. However Pettigrew, seeing that he had nowhere else to go now that his protector had been killed, turned himself to the authorities. He proved very useful to the Ministry, as he was able to tell them the whereabouts of the other Death Eaters - after he was promised by Fudge he would not be thrown in Azkaban, of course. Pettigrew also provided valuable information that proved Sirius Black's innocence, which finally enabled the man to come out of hiding for the first time in years.   
  
Nearly all of the men who participated in the attack that day were caught, except for Lucious Malfoy, who had escaped to his manor with his arm and one side of his belly wounded, causing his wife to faint at the sight of him - his son, happy to see that his father was still alive, was even more inwardly relieved to hear that Harry had not been killed. Authur Weasley had been devastated when he heard Pettigrew was unable to give any credible evidence linking Malfoy to the battle. And a raid on Malfoy Manor proved unsuccessful, as they could not find any incriminating evidence to convict him of any crimes. When questioned about his injuries though, Lucious claimed he received them while playing Quidditch with his son.   
  
And now Harry lay, battered and bruised, his body weak, only allowing him enough energy to go to the restrooms. He had done nothing but sleep since Dumbledore had found his body on that platform, barely moving. Nearly two months was he in the hospital wing, under the care of Madam Pomfrey, who administered as much medicine as possible to keep him alive.   
  
One by one, close friends and loved ones - except the Dursleys of course, who had decided to send their condolences through a poorly constructed card - had come to his bedside, muttering prayers into his ear, hoping the sound of their voice, or a gentle touch on the hand would awaken him. Sirius had been hit the most by his godson's injuries, causing him to repeatedly come to the school and refusing to leave Harry's side, until Madam Pomfrey was forced to have trolls guard the entrance of the hospital wing.   
  
When Harry had finally awoken from his coma, many thought it was due to the midnight vigil all four houses - one house had to be forced to participate - held for the young man on the eve of his awakening. Still dreary, his eyes dark and pupils large and glassed over, he was finally deemed ready to leave the confines of the hospital wing and return to his dorm, although he was excused from classes - "That he saved the lives of the entire wizarding world," said Dumbledore, "is enough to allow him a break from his school work until he gets better."   
  
Now in the dorms, Harry was guarded by Ron, who limited certain people's - especially the first years, who tended to get overly excited when around the ailing boy - access to the young man. Ron's brown eyes were focused on his friend, detecting any slight change in his breathing pattern so he could report it to Madam Pomfrey, who'll be stopping by later that day to check up on Harry.   
  
He sat on his bed, looking over his friend, and also helping himself to the many chocolate treats and candies that were piled around Harry's bed, all of them gifts from concerned students, and others in the wizarding community. He looked down at his mattress and picked up one of the many chocolate frog containers lying there and opened them. His head swiveled to the left when he heard footsteps approaching. "Listen Justin, you can't come in here anymore," he said, before he had seen the person enter the dorm, "you make too much noise and might wake--" He stopped talking when he saw that the person in question was not the Hufflepuff who had already sneaked into Gryffindor Tower four times that morning - obviously let in by the Fat Lady, who seemed to swing to any student who showed enough grief on their face.   
  
The person now standing in the entryway was Ginny, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her trembling hands, that she had bought in Hogsmeade that weekend - the only one left at the Forever Fresh Flower Shop, as all the other bouquets have already been send to the ailing green-eyed boy and were now stored in the numerous abandoned rooms in the castle.   
  
"Put the flowers over there," said Ron, pointing to a corner of the room that was littered with other large and extravagant floral arrangements, "and then leave." He watched as Ginny walked to one end of the room and lowered her flower bouquet near the others. But she hesitated and pulled away.   
  
She walked to Harry's nightstand, where there already stood a vase of violets. She looked down at the card accompanying the flowers and scowled. "That hypocrite," she muttered to herself. She forcefully pulled out Parvati's bouquet and tossed it at the other end of the room, watching it hit the wall. She turned around and observed the queer look her brother was now giving her. Ignoring his raised eyebrows, she placed her flowers in the vase.   
  
Ginny's reaction to Parvati's gift was not out of place, considering the two young women had quarreled about Ginny's relationship with the green-eyed boy just before the Christmas holidays. As she, and all that were present in the common room to witness that heated discussion, was able to recall, the argument began when the other girl commented on how Harry could not possibly love her. Parvati then sited the fact that Harry was gay and still in love with Draco for her reasoning.   
  
What happened next is an event that astonished many people in the dorm, especially those that considered the redheaded girl to be docile. Without any hesitation, Ginny had walked up to Parvati and slapped her across the face. Since then, the two girls had kept their distance from one another, only exchanging glares every now and then in the halls. Ginny sat on the bed next to Harry.   
  
"I thought I told you to leave," Ron snapped, spitting half eaten jellybeans onto the front of his shirt in the process.   
  
"I just want some time with him," she pleaded. Her eyes dropped down to Harry's face, as her hand traveled to where his arm lay underneath the covers. "Madam Pomfrey always chased me out of the hospital wing."   
  
Ron looked down at his now messy shirt, gingerly picking off the bits and pieces of toffee and other sweets stuck to his clothes. "Didn't you get to see him last night?"   
  
"Yeah, but everyone was crowding around him and I didn't get a chance to say anything. Plus, he went to bed early."   
  
The Gryffindor students had thrown Harry a Welcome Home party the previous night, which was catered by the shops in Hogsmeade - all of them more than happy to show their gratitude to the young man. Word of the celebration had quickly spread around school, causing the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs to head to Gryffindor Tower. However the common room was not big enough to accomadate the massive amounts of students, causing the party to spill out into the adjoining halls. Professor McGonagall allowed the fete to continue till the wee hours of the morning, although the chattering and loud music was doing her head in.   
  
"I wonder if it was a good idea to let him come back here," said Ginny. "He didn't look well last night at all." She remembered the exhausted expression on his face during the celebration and how he needed some assistance to make it up to the dorms.   
  
"Of course it was a good idea." Ron was now at the foot of Harry's bed, wading through the boxes and packages, his eyes darting left to right for anything that resembled chocolate. "Dumbledore was right, Harry needs to be around his friends and those that love him."   
  
With a handful of candy, the redheaded boy made his way back to his bed, where he had been sitting all night; the adrenaline from the party and the sugar coursing through his veins enabled him to continue functioning without any sleep.   
  
Ginny began to stroke the sleeping boy's head. "I can't believe he was in the hospital wing for all those weeks. I was afraid he wasn't going to make it."   
  
"Don't speak so loudly," said Ron, "he might hear. And how could you doubt his recovery? I had no doubt in my mind that he would be all right."   
  
Ginny turned and looked at him in disbelief. "Really Ron? I saw your face when you heard he had been ambushed at King's Cross Station by You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters."   
  
Ron looked down at his hands, trying heard to forget the day Dumbledore broke the news to them.   
Ginny's fingers wrapped themselves around Harry's hair. "I still don't know why he even went home for Christmas. Why didn't he just stay here with us?"   
  
"His uncle died."   
  
"I didn't know that. Why didn't he say anything?"   
  
"Only Hermione and I knew. Anyway, Dumbledore was the one that convinced him to go home for the burial. I think he blames himself for Harry's attack." Ron looked around the room, his eyes resting on Dean, who was slumbering in his bed. He leaned forward and lowered his voice as he whispered, "Some people have been saying that Harry had expected the attack." He grabbed his sister's arm, pulling her closer to him. "I overheard Percy and Dad talking about the interrogation, and they said that Pettigrew suspected someone must have warned Harry about the attack. He said Harry knew a counter curse to all the spells You-Know-Who tried to use on him."   
  
"So? Harry knows a lot of spells."   
  
"But these were all Dark Magic spells, stuff the school doesn't teach, not even in Defense class."   
  
"Did they say who they suspected?"   
  
"No. They're still trying to think who it could be." Ron pulled away, but quickly took his sister's arm once more. "Don't repeat this to anyone." He then lay back on his bed. "You should hear some of the details of the fight. The Daily Prophet interviewed several witnesses and they said there was blood all over the platform from when Harry chopped off You-Know-Who's--"   
  
"Ron," Ginny interjected, "I don't want to hear the gory details." She then closed her eyes, trying to get the images of the fight out of her mind. For months, she had been inundated by countless reports of decapitations.   
  
"It's too bad they canceled the parade," said Ron, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I would like to have been on one of the floats."   
  
"Why would you be on a float? Harry's the one that killed You-Know-Who. Not you."   
  
"But I'm his trusty friend. I'm sure Fudge could have arranged for Hermione and I to have our own little floats."   
  
"Wasn't last night's party enough? Anyway, I'm glad Dumbledore canceled the parade. All of that excitement would have been too much for Harry to take. I'm surprised the school let us have that homecoming party for him to begin with." Ginny began to run her fingers down Harry's bare chest. His skin was smooth; devout of any cuts and bruises. The only scar that remained was his lightning bolt. "Snape did a good job with the cuts. I can't even detect them."   
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "You think he did it out of the goodness of his heart? He only made that potion because Dumbledore ordered him to do so." He stopped eating his candy and eyed the way his sister caressed Harry's skin. "Careful. You might hurt him. You know he still suffers from chest pains. The poison that was on Voldemort's knife is still running through his body."   
  
Ginny quickly pulled her hands away. However, she was unable to keep from touching him for very long and brought her fingers to his face, rubbing his cheek. A smile began to spread on her lips. But that was short-lived, as other devastating thoughts entered her mind. "Do you think what Parvati said about him is true?"   
  
"What?" asked Ron, with a mouthful of chocolate.   
  
"That he's gay."   
  
Ron made a weird noise in the back of his throat, as if he was choking. His face grew pale and he gulped hard on his last piece of candy. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"   
  
"You're his friend. Don't you guys talk about this sort of thing?"   
  
"Absolutely not," Ron nearly shouted, getting to his feet in the process. "What or who he does in private is none of my damn business." He sat back down again and looked towards the doorway.   
  
"I know it upsets you to think about it," said Ginny, in a soft voice, "but I really need to know the--"   
  
"Will you please stop? This subject is really making me feel uncomfortable." Ron was now facing her, his eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared. He glanced down at his feet, eyeing all the candy that had fallen onto the floor. He knelt down and began to pick them up, all the while glancing at his sister. "Don't worry about it. I think that whole Malfoy thing..." He paused and made a face, as if he was going to vomit. "That whole affair was just a short fling. And why the hell are you listening to Parvati for? She's just jealous because you guys are dating."   
  
Ginny lowered her head, thinking how Parvati was not the only girl in the school who seemed somewhat envious of her relationship with the green-eyed boy. Although Harry was oblivious to them, Ginny always noticed the glares the other girls gave her when they made their way down the halls hand in hand. Aside from Dean, who had gotten more attention from the opposite sex due to his handsome features, Harry was a much sought-after commodity in the school. She even noticed some of the Slytherin girls glancing at him every now and then - although they would never admit it in public.   
  
"You're right," Ginny said, "she probably wishes she was in my place." She flashed her brother a smile, thinking how encouraging he was being at that moment. But that smile was all for nothing, as he was not even looking at her; he was far too busy taking inventory of the sweets now resting in his lap.   
  
She glanced down at Harry once more, eyeing the calm way he was slumbering. As she took a deep breath, she still couldn't rid herself of the lingering thoughts that he could somehow still have feelings for Malfoy. It seemed to her that the two boys' relationship had been a short one, much too short for them to form a lasting bond, but she was unsure; whenever she tried to question Harry about how and when he and Draco had gotten together, she was always greeted with silence and narrowed eyes. No matter his attachments to the other boy, she told herself that he loved only her. He was always very sweet to her; buying her gifts out of the blue and wearing his necklace, despite the teasing he received from Ron - who never failed to place his hand over his mouth and laugh every time he saw that gold chain glittering around Harry's neck.   
  
However, she sometimes wished Harry were more demonstrative with his affections; for she was always the one initiating the physical contact between them, such as grabbing his hand or throwing her arms around him in a hug.   
  
Her eyes lowered and became downcast as she thought of how withdrawn he had grown since the start of the school year. But she shook her head, attributing his actions to being preoccupied with Voldemort. But since the Dark Lord will no longer be a threat in his life, she supposed their relationship would improve.   
  
Ginny was in the process of reaching towards him and lightly touching his brow, when a chiming noise brought her attention to his nightstand. Behind the vase and near the endless candy wrappers, she saw the watch that was producing the sounds. She picked up the silver trinket for the first time ever - Harry had religiously guarded his watch, not letting anyone see, nonetheless touch it. He always carried it with him, taking it out of his pocket every now and then to stroke it with his fingers when he thought no one was looking.   
  
"Ron," she said, holding the watch up to her brother by the chain, "has Harry ever shown you this?"   
  
Ron quickly glanced at the instrument. "Will you please put that away? You know how he feels about anyone messing with his things." That said, the redhead couldn't resist reaching out and letting his fingers run along the watch, as he had never seen it up close before. "It's funny," he said, "when Harry awoke, the only thing he cared about was this watch. Dumbledore and some of the other teachers went back to the station looking for it. They finally found it on the train trac--" He stopped talking and leaned forward. "The watch makers made a mistake with Harry's initials. They wrote `HD' instead of `HP.'   
  
Ginny brought the watch close to her face and inspected it. "I wonder why Harry," she said, her fingers prying open the lid of the watch, which had just stopped chiming, "never said anything about--" She immediately paused when her eyes gazed over the inscription on the inside of the lid. The heartfelt dedication was definitely not something one would write to their godson; the sentimentality resembled something exchanged by two lovers. Ginny's eyes grew wide, as she looked at the watch and then down at the slumbering young man next to her.   
  
She then dropped her gaze to the floor and put the shiny instrument back on the nightstand. "Only Malfoy," she muttered under her breath, her tone becoming harsh as she said the blond's name, "could afford something like this."   
  
"What did you say?" asked Ron. Ginny did not respond, only keeping her eyes lowered. After a moment of heavy silence, Ron got up from his bed. "I'm going down to breakfast." On his way to the door, he made sure to stop by Harry's bed and scoop up some more sweets for his journey to the Great Hall.   
  
  
~*~*~   
  
Harry had been awake for most of that morning, unable to sleep due to the noise of the students in the common room, who continued to party in his honor till three in the morning. He had finally gotten a few hours of sleep at around four in the morning, when everyone had finally gone to bed, or back to their respective houses. But that sleep had been unsettling to say the least as he was awoken nearly every hour by the presence of his redheaded friend, who sat on his bed the whole night, watching him. Even if Harry rolled over in his bed and faced the small window, he could still feel Ron's eyes on him. Additionally, the noise that Ron made with his mouth as he smacked his lips and loudly chewed on the various candies was very disturbing.   
  
After the constant disturbance from the numerous visitors who would creep towards his bed to stare at him or cry on his shoulder - despite a tongue lashing from Ron - Harry gave up all hopes of sleeping. As if he could sleep soundly to begin with. Every time he closed his eyes, he was swept away into a nightmare of sorts, as he was forced to relive that horrible December day over and over again in his mind.   
  
Not wanting to engage anyone in conversation, Harry had kept his eyes shut, as he feigned sleep. This act was easy to do when there was only Ron and a sleeping Dean in the room, but it had gotten arduous when Ginny entered the scene. He had to work hard to not made a reaction or move then Ginny and her brother began talking about him, especially his sexuality.   
  
His heart had been pounding when he saw her inspect the watch and read the inscription, knowing her fast mind would be able to quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together and figure out who sent him the gift. The same quickness remained in his heart as he now found himself alone with her, as she stared down at him. He tried not to move or make any noise, but he soon abandoned that tactic and decided it was now time for him to wake up. He slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring up at her face.   
  
"I'm sorry," she said in a soft voice, "I didn't mean to wake you."   
  
Harry shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, as it had become incredibly difficult for him to speak. But he cleared his throat and said in a hoarse and scratchy voice, "It's okay."   
  
He moved back in the bed when he felt her fingers touch his face. Months ago, that touch would have been eagerly welcomed, as he was in great need of physical contact; but now, her fingers made him feel uncomfortable as they traced along his skin, her nails barely touching him.   
  
They did not say another word to one another for a long time after that, as she continued to touch him, her hands running up and down his chest and then up to his face again.   
  
"I really missed you," she finally said. "I didn't think I would see you again. When father told me about the attack--" She brought her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes. She lowered her head, as a hot tear trickled down her cheek and fell onto the bed.   
  
Harry brought his arm around her waist and pulled her into his body. She nearly collapsed on top of him as she became overwhelmed by her emotions. He didn't utter a word, merely moving his hand up and down on her back as she cried on his shoulder.   
  
"I tried to visit you in the hospital wing," she managed to say, "but I wasn't allowed in. So I sent messages through Sirius." She sat up and looked down at him with red eyes.   
  
"Yes, I know. I remember Sirius telling me how worried you were and how much you cared for me." Although the cut on the corner of his lip had not completely healed yet, Harry managed to force a smile onto his face.   
  
"Are you still in a lot of pain?" she asked, having now completely gotten herself under control.   
  
"A little. My chest still aches once in a while but it's not as bad as bef--" He stopped talking when he heard the watch chiming, signaling is was now half past nine in the morning.   
  
Ginny too glanced over at the nightstand, her eyes resting on the gift. The peaceful and relieved expression on her face slowly began to harden, as she now narrowed her eyes at the silver trinket. Neither one of them said a word, but Harry could sense what she must have been thinking and feeling at that moment. He dared to look up at her for a second, before glancing away.   
  
"Why didn't you tell me he sent you the present?" she asked, her voice shaky.   
  
Harry continued to look out the window. "I don't know."   
  
"Do you still love him?"   
  
Harry turned to stare at her face, looking deep into those eyes that seemed to be longing for him to make a quick reply of `no.' But he turned his head once more and brought his gaze to the mountain of presents that had now taken over one part of the room. "I don't want to talk about this right now."   
  
She brought her hand to his chest, splaying her fingers against his hot and bare skin. Harry winced a little when felt her hand press down on him. "We need to talk about this," she said, her voice a little tighter than usual. "I need to know what's going on with you two."   
  
After some hesitation, Harry eventually said, "Before the attack, he was owling me almost everyday."   
  
Draco had indeed been communicating to his estranged lover on a fairly regular basis since their late night rendezvous during the beginning of the school year. Every night, his owl would appear on the windowsill of Harry's dorm, carrying large packages containing thick books on Dark Magic and instructions on specific curses and counter curses to learn.   
  
"Do you still have feelings for him?" she asked.   
  
Harry leaned into the mattress and closed his eyes. He drew in a deep breath, before uttering, "Yes. I still love him."   
  
Ginny pulled her hand away and remained silent for a long time, alternating from staring at him, to her hands and then towards Dean, who was now moving in his bed. Her dark eyes quickly darted back to Harry, as she narrowed her brows. "So you never loved me?"   
  
Harry remained quiet. There were many things he could have said to her then. He wanted to confess that he indeed had feelings for her, although they were not love; but he felt anything he said at that moment would cause more damage to her already fragile state of mind. So he did not say a word.   
  
Before he could do anything to stop her, he felt Ginny slide off of his bed and walk towards the staircase. He lifted his head off the pillow and tried to call after her, but his temples began to throb and the pain in his chest increased, forcing him back onto the bed.   
  
  
~*~*~   
  
  
As Harry walked down the hall, he noticed that all eyes were on him. Over the past couple of years, the novelty of his fame and being The Boy Who Lived had worn off, as the other students began to see him as an ordinary young man. But now his celebrity had risen to a great crescendo, with students from other houses patting him on the back and congratulating him on a job well done. Unlike the previous time, when he had shunned away from the attention - which always made him feel uncomfortable, as he never thought he had accomplished anything great - he now enjoyed his newfound fame.   
  
As he limped his way to Potions class, Harry felt someone touch him on the shoulder. He turned around and stared into Parvati's eyes.   
  
"Do you want me to help you with your books?" she asked. Not waiting for an answer from him, she hurriedly took his schoolbooks from his hands and walked with him down the hall. A slight smile was now on her face as they passed many female students, half of whom where glaring at her. Noticing the envious looks, Parvati hooked her arm around Harry's.   
  
This had become a daily occurrence in Harry's life; not a day would go by when someone did not offer to walk him to and from his classes, although he was now well enough to manage on his own. And when he got back to the dorms, he would be surrounded by a group of students, who always wanted him to tell them the events that took place on that bloody day. He of course never had to do much talking, as Ron would often take over the story, adding in a few lies in the process.   
  
As they continued down the hall, Harry caught a glimpse of Ginny as she stood several feet away with Neville. She was facing the round-faced boy, and Harry couldn't help but observe the way Neville's hand was placed on her shoulder. He stopped walking and looked at them, eyeing the way they stared at one another. Neville soon caught his gaze for a brief instant, before glancing away, his face turning red. Harry turned his eyes to Ginny, who's face turned almost the same color as Neville's.   
  
Harry managed to give her a smile, as he tried to convey he was not hurt by her transfer of affections. In actuality, he was a bit relieved to see she had found someone else. It had been weeks since they had last spoken to each other, and he knew she wouldn't wait forever for him to come around. Plus, he had small inklings of Neville's affections for her since the beginning of the year, as he would often notice the glances and looks the round-faced boy threw at his girlfriend. But Harry had been too preoccupied with his communication with Draco and preparing for the battle to pay much notice or - if he had to truthfully admit to himself - even care about them getting together. After their brief exchange, Harry made his way to class.   
  
Potions that day was somewhat tamer than usual, seeing that there were so few Slytherins left in the school. The class would have been perfect, had it not been for the ever-present surly demeanor of Snape, who never showed any gratitude towards Harry whatsoever for killing Voldemort. The Potions master still glared at him at every chance he got, and seemed to show a cruel enjoyment in watching Neville struggle with his assignments.   
  
  
~*~*~   
  
  
Harry held onto the handrail as he made his way up the stairs to the dorms, feeling a little lightheaded after his Quidditch practice. Although the Quidditch season had been canceled at the beginning of the school year, when Dumbledore had deemed there were not enough Slytherins around to form an adequate team, Madam Hooch had let several of the Gryffindors fly around for nearly two hours for fun. Although advised not to go anywhere near a broom by Pomfrey, Harry couldn't keep from mounting his Firebolt and soaring through the air once more.   
  
He was now regretting not listening to Pomfrey's warning, as his head was now pounding. About to toss himself onto his bed and get some well-needed sleep, Harry noticed there was a package on his pillow, which was wrapped in the same paper that his birthday present had been in.   
  
He quickly swiveled his head and glanced out the window, watching as the dark eagle owl flew out of sight. Harry finally climbed onto his bed and lifted the package. His heart was now beating fast, as he had not heard from the blond since November. When he opened the package, an article from the Daily Prophet detailing his defeat of Voldemort fell onto his bed. Harry looked down at the publication, eyeing the moving picture of the townspeople in Hogsmeade as they danced in the streets under a sky of confetti and ribbons.   
  
Underneath the article, he found a letter. He then lay back on his bed and brought the parchment to his face, eyeing the handwriting of his former lover. Harry now breathed a sigh of relief to know that his friend was doing well, as he had been worried about the blond's safety ever since he had awoken.   
  
So immersed was he in reading the letter over and over again, that he failed to register that someone was now talking to him. He brought the letter down to his chest, and was startled to look up and find that Ginny was staring down at him.   
  
"I didn't mean to distract you," she said in a weak voice.   
  
"It's not a problem." He sat up on the bed so he could properly talk to her. The two stared at one another in silence, as they were suddenly feeling shy around each other again. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and said, "I really wanted to talk to you."   
  
He glanced down at his hands for a long time afterwards, as he tried to find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. "I'm really sorry about what happened between us. I don't want you to think I never cared for you, because I did. It's just that my feelings were still with..." He stopped talking when he saw the way Ginny was now eyeing the green envelope on his bed.   
  
Her eyes then traveled to the letter he held in his hands. Harry tried to moved the letter away, before she could see Draco's name, which was written all over the stationary.   
  
"It's okay," she said, giving him an amused smile. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I know you guys love each other and always will. This time apart has made me realize that." She reached down and touched his shoulder, allowing her fingers to run along his collarbone. She then glanced over her shoulder towards the door. "I've also found someone..."   
  
Harry looked at the entryway and saw Neville's outline as he stood in the stairway, half hidden by the darkness.   
  
"I'm heading to Hogsmeade," she said, "and wanted to know if you'd like to come with us."   
  
Harry eyed Neville's figure once more before shaking his head. "I still feel a little dizzy from flying around. I think I need to stay here and rest."   
  
She bent her head and brought her lips to the side of his face. "I'll bring you back some candy," she whispered in his ear. "I know Ron ate all the other sweets you had."   
  
Harry watched as she pulled away and walked out the dorm with her new beau, before returning his attentions back to his letter. 


	9. Narcissa's Gift

Chapter 9: Narcissa's gift  
  
  
  
Draco crept from his bedroom, carefully checking the long hallway before proceeding down the spiraling staircase to the first floor. All was quiet in the manor, except for the faint chatter of the house-elves, who were busy preparing the rooms in the guest quarters for that morning's visitors. His heart pounded when he passed the large portraits of his ancestors - who all had the same scowling expression on their faces that his father always wore.   
  
Luckily for him, all of them were asleep, or else they would surely question why he was sneaking around the house at one in the morning. His father had alerted everyone to keep a watchful eye on him, and report whatever suspicious activity they witnessed. Surely, nothing would please Draco's great-great grandfather more than snitching on him and watching him get punished. The elderly man was never one of Draco's dearest friends; even as a small boy, he remembered the man's portrait glaring at him.  
  
Draco stopped by a mirror to check his appearance, smoothing back his long hair from the left side of his face. His lips curled into the smile he planned on giving the green-eyed young man who had haunted his dreams for nearly a year.   
  
All those months of separation had been a painful ordeal for him, especially the few weeks leading up to the ambush at King's Cross Station. He learned about the attack from the Death Eater meetings that took place in his father's den that past summer, since it was his responsibility to serve the men their food; Lucius no longer trusted his house-elves, and would only allow his son into the room. But as Draco poured everyone's drink and made sure they had enough food, he took down mental notes on all they planned to do to Harry.   
  
On the day of the ambush, he stayed in his bedroom, wringing his hands in anxiety as he wondered if Harry would know which curses to use and when. His father had been so arrogant as he prepared to leave with the other Death Eaters. He even instructed the house-elves to prepare the grand ballroom for the celebration that would take place later that night. But Draco knew all was well with Harry the moment his father walked back into the house that night, bloodied and bruised. Instead of music and the clicking of champagne glasses wafting through the house that evening, the only sounds Draco heard were those of his father moaning in pain from his injuries. The gash on Lucius' stomach had been caused by his own poisoned knife and could not be cured with magic. The man had to endure weeks of agony as his wounds slowly healed.  
  
Draco crept into the ballroom and approached the fireplace he used when he last spoke to Harry. He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back once more, when the lights flickered on. He nearly jumped back when the bright glow of the overhead chandeliers flooded his eyes.   
  
"What are you doing up so late?" came the snarling voice from behind him.  
  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and froze in place. He then turned around and found himself staring at his father, who was dressed in his usual black robes. His mother, who wore her bed gowns of deep green and her long hair weaved into a braid, stood beside him. Draco scratched his head; he had been certain he heard his father snoring in his bed earlier that night.   
  
"Why are you in here?" Lucius asked again, his penetrating eyes focused on his son.  
  
Draco tried to adopt a placid expression, but it was difficult to accomplish due to the glare his father was bestowing on him. That was the same look that always made him cringe. As a small child, whenever he would throw himself on the floor of the stores in Hogsmeade and cry about a toy or some other treat he wanted, nothing – not even his mother's pleas – could get him to stop, except for his father's glare.   
"I couldn't sleep," Draco answered, hoping his father could not detect anything in his voice that would give away the fear he was feeling.  
  
Lucius stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes traveling up and down his son's body. "Why are you dressed then?"  
  
"I was thinking of going outside for a walk later and I didn't want to be in my night clothes, Father." Years of telling tales had enabled Draco to think of answers on the spot - a gift he genuinely cherished. And the lie was made ever more believable since the double doors leading to the back veranda and lily gardens lay only a few feet away.   
  
Narcissa brought her hand to her mouth and yawned. She then looked up at her husband. "You see? He's not up to anything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed."   
  
She took one step towards the door, when Lucius grabbed her hand and pulled her back to his side. "He is up to no good," he snapped. "Don't believe his little story. I know exactly what he's doing up so late." He then paused and glanced from his wife to Draco. "I know for certain he was preparing to communicate with Potter."   
  
Draco held his breath.  
  
Narcissa made no reaction and continued looking at the door. "Lucius, I have no time for this. Now, what business would Draco have communicating with that boy?" She turned to her husband, placing a dainty hand on his shoulder. "Darling, I think you're just being a little paranoid. I know the Ministry's investigation into our home life has made you a bit jumpy. But that's no reason for you to make such accusations against your own son."  
  
Lucius glanced down at her. He grabbed her hand, which had now trickled down to his collarbone in a lame attempt to calm him, and squeezed hard. "Woman, let me assure you that I am perfectly sane. There is nothing wrong with me. And I have good reason to be suspicious of your son." He then pushed her arm away. "He's not the perfect child you envision him to be." He took a step towards Draco, causing the young man to instinctively bring his hands to his face.  
  
"Lucius please," said Narcissa. "Not tonight. He's done nothing wrong."  
  
Lucius let out a snort and glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hit him." He continued to walk around Draco, his hands placed behind his back. "Do you know why I decided your son should be home schooled instead of attending Durmstrang?"  
  
"Because that school is far away and you know I wanted him close."  
  
Lucius reached out his hand and grazed the back of Draco's head, his fingers barely coming into contact with his son's fine hair. "Yes, that too. But my main reason for keeping Draco at home was so I could keep an eye on him. Make sure he wouldn't be owling a certain young man, like he was doing when I first pulled him out of Hogwarts." He walked back to where his wife was standing. "Do you know the real reason I pulled him out of Hogwarts?"  
  
"That Potter kid had him bewitched," answered Narcissa. "He was trying to make a fool out of our family by seducing our son."  
  
A smile curled onto Lucius' lips. "That's what Draco would like to have everyone believe. But in reality, he was enjoying being seduced by--" He winced just then. "Potter."  
  
Narcissa pinned her arms tightly against her chest. "That's just hearsay created by that godforsaken poltergeist whom Dumbledore can't control. He just said those things to start trouble."   
  
And Peeves had indeed started a great deal of mayhem with his gossip. Everyone in Narcissa's circle of friends had even heard about the news. Although they had all expressed their condolences to her - even offering to help her send a curse to the green-eyed boy at Hogwarts - some of the ladies had lingering doubts about Draco's sexuality. One woman was even brazen enough to express these views at an annual Ladies of the Pureblood Luncheon on the Malfoy estate. The unfortunate woman received a tongue lashing from an irate Narcissa, and was further banned from all future functions.   
  
Lucius turned to his wife. "It is true. He's been sleeping with Potter for God knows how long."   
  
Narcissa began to shake her head, as she stared up at her husband. "This is not funny," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "It's a cruel thing to imply such things about your only child."  
  
"I am not implying anything. Of course your son would never admit that to you. But I have all the proof I need." Lucius walked back to the dark corner of the room, near the windows. He reached his hand into the velvety fabric of the drapery and pulled out a squealing Tally. Holding her by her large ears, he dragged her to his wife and son. "Give me the bundle," he said to the house-elf.   
  
From the pocket of her tattered and torn makeshift dress, she pulled out a large stack of letters and handed it to her master. Lucius took the letters and began to read them to everyone. Draco closed his eyes then, as his father read the letters Harry had written him over the course of two years. Some of them were silly in nature and overly romantic, but others were much more serious, as they discussed details of Voldemort's attack.  
  
"Now you know the truth," said Lucius to his wife. "Your son has been keeping a terrible secret from you. And it seems that he's the one who told Potter about the attack. And all this time, I thought it was Pettigrew."  
  
Lucius had without a doubt thought the man who was now in the Ministry of Magic's custody had given away the precious information to Potter. He never did trust Pettigrew completely, often telling Voldemort that he questioned his loyalties.   
  
Ever since the capture of the other Death Eaters, Lucius had been plotting Pettigrew's demise. He had even devised a plan to sneak into Ministry headquarters to discover where they had relocated the man, who was now given a new identity.   
  
"I never thought my own son would betray me like this," Lucius said. "But I should have guessed." He brought his hand to his head, and began to rub his temples. "I should never have allowed you into those meetings."  
  
He took deep breaths to keep his emotions under control, as he continued to circle around his son. "It took a lot for me to trust you again. I thought that after our little discussion in your bedroom, you would have learned your lesson."   
  
Draco clearly remembered the 'discussion' he had with his father on the day he discovered he would not be attending Durmstrang. The decision to keep him at home had caused him to leap from his bed and express his displeasure. It wasn't so much his desire to go to that particular school that fueled his outrage, but his need to be around others his own age. Plus, his tutor's monotonic bantering during every class session filled him with great boredom.   
  
He reached for his face, his fingertips gliding over the intricate cobweb of bruising and bumps that lay on his normally smooth and milky white skin - the outcome of his little protest. He then closed his eyes, imagining the damage his father would cause to him that night.  
  
Lucius continued to watch him, a pleased smirk growing on the corner of his thin lips as he detected - Draco was sure of it, as nothing escape his father's keen eyes - his son's fear. Walking around the beautifully appointed room, he continued to read more of the letters. He seemed to get pleasure in watching the tortured expressions on his wife's face when he read a portion of an old letter that dealt with sexual matters.   
  
"I long to have your hands on me," read Lucius from a correspondence Harry wrote Draco the year before, "caressing my skin and your mouth bringing me to..." He paused and walked to his wife, leaning close to her face. "Bringing me to orgasm."  
  
Narcissa made a whimpering noise as those words flooded her ears. She brought her hand to her face, in an attempt to cover up her swelling emotions. But Lucius pulled her fingers away. He then pressed his face against the side of hers and muttered, "This is what happens to young men whose mothers coddle them too much. Your little boy isn't so perfect now, is he? If we had raised him the way I wanted, the way I was brought up by my own family, we would not be faced with this problem."  
  
He pulled away and walked towards Draco, as he continued to read. "'Our time spent together, holding one another has brought me complete joy. You have enriched my--"  
  
"Stop it," Draco shouted, his eyes now growing misty. "Those letters are private."  
  
Lucius paused, as he was taken aback by his son's show of courage. However, his fascination with Draco's gumption quickly waned and he continued to read once more.  
  
Draco tried to grab the letters out of his father's hand, but the man was too quick and moved towards the fireplace. While taking a long look at his son, he dangled the correspondences over the blazing flame. Draco held his breath for a moment, hoping and praying the man was only bluffing; but deep in his heart he knew his father never bluffed. And just as he had feared, the letters slipped from his father's fingers and became envelopled by the flames.  
  
Draco closed his eyes, thinking how those were the only things he had to remember Harry by. Those letters, which he read on a nightly basis as he sat on his windowsill under the magnificent glow of the moon, were what had gotten him through those lonely months he was trapped in his gilded cage.   
  
He was then filled with rage, which had been building up for nearly a year as he endured his father's cruel injustice on his freedom, mind and skin. "How dare you do such a thing?" Draco shouted, coming within inches of his father's face. He knew better than to accost his father, but all logic and reasoning was abandoned at that moment. "I will never forgive you for what you've done."  
  
Lucius showed little emotion as he stared back at Draco with unblinking eyes. "You're showing a lot of courage right now. I applaud you for that. But let me remind you, like I did the last time you thought you would be brave, that I am not one of your school friends. I am your father, and I deserve and demand your obedience. Being the man of the house, I have rules and regulations by which all must abide. And if you want to remain here, you will follow my orders."  
  
"I don't care about your rules. Everything you have done up to this time has been unfair."  
  
Lucius lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
"You had no right," continued Draco, "to invade my privacy like that. And--" He stopped talking when he felt the sting of his father's hand across his face. He tried to regain his balance, but his father's body was soon on top of his, forcing him to the ground.   
  
"I've given you everything," Lucius spouted, as his fingers encircled around Draco's neck, holding the young man steady. "You live in one of the finest homes there is and have all that your heart desires." He squeezed down on Draco's neck. "Haven't I done all I could for you?"  
  
Draco flayed his arms and legs in the air in an attempt to get away, but he could not budge from the position he was in. He felt himself growing lightheaded, as he struggled to pry those rough fingers from his skin.  
  
"With all that you have," Lucius went on, "you still find it necessary to shame the family name." And with that he brought his fist into the air, letting it hover just above his son's face.  
  
Narcissa screamed as she watched the scene before her. She had witnessed varying degrees of it during that year, but had never grown used to seeing the brutality her husband always bestowed upon her son. She brought her hands to her face, shielding her eyes from the view. But it was hard to ignore the sounds Lucius' fist made when it came into contact with young flesh. She allowed herself to be overtaken by her emotions and cried out loud. The house-elf placed her hands over her ears and retreated to her hiding place behind the curtains.   
  
Lucius ignored his wife's wails and the high-pitched crying of the house-elf, as he raised and lowered his fist several more times.  
  
Draco lay on the floor, feeling nothing, as the first blow had knocked him unconscious. But as he regained his senses, the voices around him seemed muffled and faint. The pressure that had once been around his neck was no longer there, and he could now breath easily. He tried to open his eyes, but was blinded by red. He then saw a figure rush to his side, crouching down on the floor next to him. What he felt next made him wince.  
  
"It's okay darling," said Narcissa, as she gently wiped Draco's face with the hem of her nightgown. "Everything will be fine." But she stopped cleaning him and lowered her head as the tears streamed down her face. She was only on that floor for a short time before Lucius lifted her to her feet.  
  
"I will have none of this fuss in my household," he ordered. "I want you to stop crying right this minute." He brought his hand to her face, letting it float only inches from her delicate skin. He watched her move backwards, as if she expected him to strike her. However, his fingers gently curled underneath her chin. "My dear," he uttered in the softest voice he could muster, "there's no need for alarm. The young man will be all right. You don't think I've been too cruel with him, do you? I only did what I had to do. He's a man now and it's about time he got punished like one."   
  
His hand trickled to the nape of her neck. "Calm yourself down," he went on. However, Narcissa continued to cry, her sobs getting louder and causing the servants in the guest quarters to cease their conversations. But having been well acquainted with the proceedings of the Malfoy family, the house-elves soon continued with what they were doing.   
  
He pressed his face against his wife's cheek and muttered, "Stop all of this nonsense right now. I will not have this sort of hysteria in my household. "   
  
Narcissa immediately closed her eyes, fighting back all emotions that were flooding within her. She then allowed Lucius to walk her to the hall.  
  
"I want you to go back to your quarters," he began once more, "and get some rest. I will not have you looking a mess when my guests arrive." He then cleared his throat, as he was now granting her permission to leave. But when she made it halfway down the hall, her long silk gown billowing behind her, he called after her once more. "By the way, I expect you to be in good spirits in the morning. I will not have you holding a grudge or making any backhanded comments to me under your breath because of what has just happened. Do I make myself clear?" He began to rock on his heels as he awaited an answer from her.  
  
"I understand," Narcissa muttered, before continuing on her way. Her steps were slow and well calculated, in an attempt to show she was not affected by the attack on her son; she did not want to arouse him anymore than he already was.   
  
Lucius then looked back at the young man still on the floor. He approached his son, when the crying of the house-elf, who was still buried underneath the folds of the curtains, caught his attention. "You may leave now," he bellowed, causing her to stop crying. She then peaked her head from behind the curtains and looked at him, before making a mad dash for the door.   
  
Seeing that he was alone with Draco, Lucius knelt over his son, eyeing the warm blood that flowed from the deep gashes on his face. "What will I do with you?" he muttered to himself, as he lowered his head in concentration. He then began to rub his left hand, groaning every now and then when he touched the sore muscles. "I hope I haven't broken it again because of you."  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
  
  
  
Draco's eyes darted to the figure standing before him, whom he assumed was the young house-elf he had grown fond of those months he was isolated from all others except his father's Death Eater friends. He had welcomed her company on many occasions, even allowing her to stay in his room for an extended period of time; however, she never talked to him and would just stare at his face. But he never imagined she would search his closet for that secret compartment that lay underneath his mountain of leather shoes, where he hid his most private possessions. But he was not angry with her, as she was merely curious about his private affairs and had no idea Lucius would get his hands on the letters.   
  
But as his eyes became more focused, he shrank back in his bed when he realized the person staring down at him was his father. His heart beat rapidly, as he thought of what the man would do to him again.   
  
Over the course of time, Draco had come to see the possibility of an altercation with his father as inevitable, since he always received a stern warning, glance or slap from the man every now and then. But it had been a long while since his father had displayed his darkest temper, as he did that night.   
  
"It's about time you woke up," said Lucius. "I was beginning to think I would have to wake you myself."  
  
Draco looked around him; he was only half conscious of how he got into his bed. The feeling of being lifted from the ground was oddly familiar, and he wondered if his father was the one who had done it. "No," he thought. His father would never lower himself to do something of that nature and probably got one of the servants to do the task for him. Draco lifted his hand to his face; his skin ached as his fingers glided against it. He could still feel the deep scars of that night's wounds, which would eventually blend with the myriad of other scars his father had given him over the year.  
  
Lucius began to pace around the length of Draco's bed, keeping his eyes on him the entire time. He then sighed loudly. "I don't know why I've indulged you for so long. I've known about your communications with him for a while now, even seeing the late night owl posts you've tried so hard to keep secret. I never did anything about it before because I thought it would run its course."  
  
Draco immediately narrowed his eyes when he heard his father's statement. The man had indeed done plenty to punish him whenever he suspected him of sending off letters to Harry.   
  
"But I will not," Lucius continued, "tolerate you nor your deviant lifestyle any longer." He now stood at the foot of Draco's bed, casting a gloomy shadow over the young man. "I'm just lucky that insufferable house-elf is so nosy. If I didn't find her reading your correspondences with Potter in the garden, I would not have known you were the one that told him about the attack. Your actions got our Lord killed. And now I have to suffer with my injuries." He gingerly touched the side of his stomach. "You've grown to be such a disappointment for me. I had great hopes for you. I always imagined you leading the Death Eaters alongside me."   
  
He walked to Draco's closet and opened it. "You had all of this," he said, running his hand along the numerous robes and cloaks. "You had everything you could want, but you threw it all away." He made his way back to Draco's bed. "I've decided that you cannot reside in my house for any longer."  
  
Draco moved to the other side of the bed when he saw his father's hand trickle into his cloaks. His heart pounded, as he imagined his father pulling out a number of weapons to hurt him with; but it was mostly his father's silver dagger that filled him with the most fear. However, his fright was all for not, as his father's hand curled around his belt, re-adjusting it.   
  
"I've decided I don't want you here anymore," Lucius said. "I want you out of my life and home, effective immediately. I don't care where you go, as long as you're not here."  
  
Draco sat back on his bed in amazement. He had long expected his father to send him to a military academy in Leeds; Lucius often made this threat when the young man was being cheeky or smart-alecky. However, Draco never imagined he would be thrown out. He stared at his father, trying hard to read the expression in the man's eyes. But Lucius' stare contained the same emotion that was always present, whether he was talking to a friend or foe: surliness.  
  
"Are you serious about this?" Draco blurted. But he knew it was a ludicrous question the moment it escape his lips; his father was not one to joke around.   
  
Lucius did not respond and walked to the window.   
  
Draco rested his head against the headboard and stared at his father's back, hoping the man would turn around and say it was merely a threat. But his father continued looking out the window, eyeing the eagle owl that soared past. Draco breathed a sigh of relief that the owl was not making a delivery to him that night.   
  
"I will give you five minutes to get out of here," said Lucius.  
  
Draco drew in a sharp breath. Although he had thought of running away many times before – and even attempted doing so on several occasions – he still couldn't imagine himself without his home. His family's riches had cushioned his entire life, and he grew accustomed to the lifestyle his last name provided him.   
  
Without saying a word, Draco got up from his bed and walked to the closet. He drew out his leather bag and began to stuff various clothing into it. He was going to reach for his shoes when his father grabbed his wrist.   
  
"All of these things are mine," Lucius spat, pulling the bag out of Draco's hands. "The only things you will be allowed to take with you are the clothes on your back. And don't think for a moment, you'll be able to stay at Primrose Estate. I've informed all the servants there that you are not to be let onto the property. You're on your own."   
  
Draco looked up in amazement at his father; the family's second home in Brighton Beach was where he had planned on staying. Now he had nowhere else to go. He never imagined he would be sent into the real world with nothing. He assumed his father would at least give him a large allowance and one of the house-elves to help soften the blow of being out on his own.  
  
"You now have four minutes to get out of here," Lucius announced. He pushed open the windows, allowing a rush of cold air into the room. "I would hurry if I were you. You only have a short time to make it to the gates." His eyes flittered to the large iron gates that were now being opened by his hooded security men.   
  
Draco didn't want to ask what would happen if he didn't make it out of the manor within those few minutes. He took one last look at his father, before heading out of the room. As he walked down the hall, his heart raced, sending fear throughout his body. He was soon sprinting down the corridors, almost tripping down the stairs as he made his way to the front door. But as he reached out his hand to open the door, someone grabbed hold of his arm.   
  
He turned around to find himself looking at his mother. Although her face was calm, he could still see the pain that lingered in her eyes. The expression that was on her face when she attempted to clean the blood off of him suddenly flooded his mind; that was the first time she had shown any real suffering on his behalf. After most of his beatings, she normally berated him for arousing his father's anger.   
  
"I have to go," he said. "He's making me leave."  
  
Narcissa made no reaction; it was apparent she already knew what was happening. "I want you to have this," she finally said, her voice just above a whisper. She reached into the pocket of her nightgown and pulled out a small key. "I don't know what made me set it up for you when you were a child, but I did. I thought it would be useful to you one of these days. But I never imagined I would have to give it to you so soon."  
  
Draco glanced down at the key, which had 142 engraved on it.  
  
"It's a key to your vault," she said. "You'll find more than enough money in there to last you quite a while." Her eyes met his for a brief moment, detecting the doubts that were looming in their gray depths. "He doesn't know about it, so don't worry about him closing out your account." She then closed his hands around the key, before turning around and starting down the hall to her room.  
  
Draco raced after her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you come with me? You and I can make a new life for ourselves."  
  
Narcissa shook her head. "My home and life are here with him. Plus, he needs me."  
  
An awkward silence grew between them as they stared at one another. There were many things he could have done at that moment to express the emotions he was feeling, but he remained still, as if in a stupor. He wanted so much to wrap his arms around her and whisper his gratitude, but he knew the gesture would be met with uneasiness; his family  
always found it difficult to show and receive affection. Draco took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. But before he could think of something to utter, he heard his father's voice echo through the marble halls.   
  
"You have one more minute," Lucius called out from the third floor of the house.  
  
Draco sprinted to the door, and made his way down the lawn. He was glad he was dressed in his normal clothes and not his pajamas, as the night air was biting. He glanced over his shoulder for a brief moment, eyeing the small figure standing in the doorway. That was the last time he would ever lay his eyes on his mother. 


	10. Death of a Friend

Chapter 10: Death of a Friend   
Westworth Street in London's East End was abandoned, except for the small crowd of people who loitered outside a kebab shop, as they engaged in the exchange of illegal substances. An old building lay across the street that now housed down and out young people, drug addicts, and runaways who had escaped the monotony of their small suburban towns for the glitz of the big city. Most of them slept on the top floor, which lacked the rats that populated most of the lower levels.   
  
Several young ladies, who had hitchhiked from Manchester and now found themselves renting out their bodies to businessmen, were huddled in the corner of the room around a small fire. All around them were people sleeping on cardboard boxes or newspapers. Lying away from everyone else was Draco. He moved around uncomfortably on the hard floor, as he tried to find a comfortable sleeping position. Although he had placed several ratted blankets about his body, they still did not provide much cushion or warmth. But he could not afford to fall asleep, nonetheless, as he had to keep alert for thieves. Although he knew many of the people sleeping in that building, he still did not trust them.   
  
He had been in London for several months, and had slept in many of the city's dilapidated buildings. He much preferred the former jam factory where he now lived, as none of its windows were broken and the police did not conduct many raids on that street. However, being on his own had been a lot harder than he expected. He always assumed he would be able to draw his money from Gringotts. But that plan had gone array; on a trip to Diagon Alley, he saw his father's henchmen standing outside of the bank, carefully watching all those who entered the building. He realized then that the wizarding community was not safe for him. It was absolute in his mind that his father knew of his mother's gift, and would go to great lengths to prevent him from getting the money. He spent many nights in that old factory thinking of the punishment his mother must have received for helping him.   
  
While most of the other people spent their days begging on the street corner or pick pocketing unsuspecting tourists in Trafalgar Square, Draco was out nicking merchandise in stores. His most dangerous and thrilling act of thievery occurred when he stole a gold necklace. What happened next was an adrenaline rush that involved him being chased by the police for nearly five blocks. But Draco was able to elude them by hiding in an alley. The necklace later brought him three hundred pounds from the pawnshop. He used that money to pay for a hotel room for several days.   
  
During more desperate times, many of the young men and women around him resorted to prostituting themselves. Although he received many offers from men who were attracted to his boyish looks, he always turned them down; nothing could force him to participate in that sort of activity, regardless of his poverty.   
  
Draco stared out into the darkness, thinking of the life he could have led. He brought his hands up to his face, and eyed the film of dirt that now covered his fingers. It had been a long time since he had showered. He had succumbed to the flu, which made him weak and unable to go on his stealing sprees. He now spend most of his days laying on that floor, only having enough strength to run to his little bucket to throw up. One time, he did not make it to the bucket in time and got sick on himself. It was only through the kindness of the young girls from Manchester, who got him food and even stole him a new shirt and flu medicine from Woolworth's, that he was able to survive.   
  
He had often thought of traveling to Surrey to visit Harry at his relatives' house. But he stopped himself; he surely did not want the other boy to see him in such a horrible state.   
  
Draco brought his blankets tighter around his body, as he began to shiver. He then closed eyes, and allowed himself to finally drift off to sleep.  
  
~*~*~  
  
A tinge of orange flickered in the sky above, welcoming the incoming nightfall. The streets below were packed with bodies, as people wandered from store to store, in attempts to take advantage of the sales occurring in many of Diagon Alley's establishments. Amongst the throng of people was Harry. He was wedged between Mrs. Weasley and Sirius, as they made their way to Amazing Alexander's House Fixtures. They, plus Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan had just finished having dinner together at The Leaky Cauldron in celebration of the three friends' graduation from Hogwarts. Everyone had now gone their separate ways in search of their own amusement and delight.   
  
Ron and Hermione had gone to find supplies for her new job as a researcher in a medical center in Leeds. No one of course was surprised when Hermione was offered the prestigious position. They were all happy for her, except for Ron, who complained about the distance that would be between them. But Hermione assured her fretting boyfriend that they would spend lots of time together, now that she had received her Apparating license. Harry had wanted to get his own license, but other events that summer had prevented him from doing so; Ron, on the other hand, had given up after realizing the studying that it entailed.   
  
Those few days following his graduation from school had been hectic indeed for Harry. He had spent much of that time adjusting to a new home with Sirius. He always assumed moving out of the Dursley household would be easy, since he knew he had long outstayed his welcome; but he was wrong. Although years of neglect and emotional strife characterized his time spent in that house, deep down, he felt a lot of sadness for his aunt and cousin for having lost his uncle that past winter. He had even spent time preparing a speech, which he hoped would express his condolences. But he decided not to bother reading it when he saw the dispassionate expression on his aunt's face and the way she avoided making eye contact with him. Dudley, however, had some sadness in his eyes; Harry guessed his chubby cousin was saddened because he would no longer have anyone to bully.  
  
Harry's new house was on a tree-lined street in a Muggle community. Although he had adjusted to his new living arrangements, he still found himself hiding food underneath his bed - an embarrassing side effect of having been starved for all those years. He would often spend many nights staring out the window, as he watched the neighborhood children play football in the streets. The tranquility he now faced in his life saddened him; he wished he had experienced that same happiness when he was younger, instead of suffering under the rule of Vernon, Petunia and Dudley.   
  
Sirius, on the other hand, did not meet the prospect of getting the house with much joy. He frowned upon the idea of Harry using a bulk of his savings to buy the property; he much would have liked to be the one supporting the youngster, instead of the other way around. Although Sirius had a new job at the Ministry as an investigator - it was the Ministry's way of apologizing for wrongfully jailing him - his paycheck still couldn't compete with the goldmine that was in Harry's vault.  
  
Harry looked up at his godfather then, and eyed the grimace that was now on his face from the stares he received from others around him. Although all charges of murder had been dropped and the Daily Prophet had printed a story on how he was setup by Pettigrew, people still greeted Sirius with uncertainty; and often moved away and whispered to one another when they saw him. Harry placed his hand on Sirius' shoulder, as he tried his best to relax the man. Sirius glanced at him, and smiled weakly. Harry then wondered if it was a good idea to bring him to Diagon Alley, as large crowds often irritated him. But before he had a chance to ask if Sirius wanted to leave, Molly began to talk.   
  
"The store is right over there," said Mrs. Weasley, as she grabbed Sirius' shirt. She glanced over her shoulder at Harry. "You don't have to go inside with us dear. Your bedroom is already finished. Why don't you go and have some fun. Maybe you can join the twins. They're around here somewhere." Her arm encircled around Sirius' as she led him into the store. "What kind of decor do you want for your bedroom? Do you want classic, traditional or...maybe you're a rustic kind of guy."  
  
Harry watched them disappear into the crowd. He'd seen Percy and Penelope walk by earlier, but decided not to chase after them, as they needed their time alone. And since the prospect of finding Ron and Hermione seemed arduous - he did want to fight through the sea of people - he decided to go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for a much-needed break.   
  
Sitting at the table with his milkshake in front of him, Harry sat back in his chair and eyed the people around him. A few tables away he saw Seamus Finnegan having dinner with Mr. Bagman. A knowing smile curled onto the corner of his lips; he too had had such dinners with various members of the Ministry of Magic, when they attempted to court him into accepting a job with their department. But in the end, Harry decided that the Ministry was not for him.   
  
He had spent many days agonizing over what to do with his future. All around him, it seemed as though everyone else had his or her life in order but him. Even Ron had his future set, as he would be going into business with the twins to help them manage their corporation.   
  
Harry had at one point considered entering into Quidditch, but the demanding travel schedule of a player did not appeal to him. However, things turned bright one June day when he received a letter from the Firebolt Corporation, asking him to join their design team. The prospect of creating racing brooms appealed to the young man. And a tour of the company's headquarters in Sussex convinced him that he had finally found his calling.   
  
He was busy daydreaming of his upcoming employment that winter, when the loud chattering of a group of passersby caught his attention. He sank down in his chair when several former Slytherins passed his table. Harry slowly moved his chair into the dark shadows of an overhead tree when he realized that the group had decided to congregate in front of his table. He had spent much of his last school year avoiding the Slytherins in the halls and in class. Many of them always greeted him with glares, and whispered "pouf" under their breath whenever he walked by. They blamed him for Draco's withdrawal from school, especially Pansy Parkinson. Harry lowered his head and listened to their idle banter. But soon their conversation piqued his interest when they began to talk about a subject close to his heart.   
  
"Have any of you heard from Draco lately?" asked one of the Slytherins. When no one answered him, he tapped Pansy Parkinson on the shoulder and repeated the question to her.  
  
"What would I want with Draco?" she spat. She then threw the young man a disgusted look, which caused him to glance down at the floor. "Anyway, didn't you see him at Durmstrang last year? I thought he transferred there."   
  
"Draco never enrolled in Durmstrang," said Millicent, as she cut through the crowd, knocking a skinny girl to the ground with her tremendous girth. "It's a good thing he didn't go either, because we were all prepared to beat him to a pulp." She brought her fist down hard against the palm of her hand. "He deserves a beating just for allowing himself to get tricked by Potter."  
  
"I saw Draco this summer," said Goyle. He was in the middle of enjoying his candy and his lips were made sticky by the sugary treat. "My parents forced me to go to his house last summer. Poor guy, his father sure did teach him a lesson." He then took another bite of the candy, appearing to swallow it without chewing. He continued to eat for several more minutes, until he noticed the frustrated looks on the other's faces. He then suddenly realized that everyone was waiting for him to continue. He reluctantly shoved the rest of his candy back in the large bag. "When I was there, I noticed that his father's left hand was all bandaged up. Later when we were eating dinner, I saw some bruises on Draco's face. He tried to hide his face with his long hair, but you could definitely see that he had scars all over his cheek and eye."  
  
"Maybe his father punished him for sleeping with Potter," said another Slytherin.  
  
Pansy elbowed the boy in the side. "They didn't sleep together. And even if they did, Draco wasn't doing it willingly. He was under some sort of spell." She then glanced around the group, her eyes daring anyone to challenge her statement. Everyone remained quiet. She then focused her attention back to Goyle. "Did he mention me, by any chance?"  
  
"Why would he mention you for?"  
  
Pansy gave him a long, searching look. But she soon glanced away when she received nothing in return other than his usual blank expression. But she couldn't hide her interest in knowing more about the blond and asked, "How did he look? Had he changed at all since last year?"  
  
Goyle shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Aside from the scars, he looked the same to me." Seeing that Pansy was about to ask him more questions, the chubby lad moved away from the crowd so he could enjoy his treats without interruption.   
  
Pansy's face then became gloomy. "I sent him a few letters a couple of months ago, but he never responded."  
  
"Maybe he's not interested in you," replied Millicent in a sarcastic tone. "Perhaps he found another boy to replace Potter."  
  
Several of the boys in the group brought their hands to their mouths to hide the smiles that were developing on their lips. Pansy placed her hands on her hips and glared at Millicent. But she had no time to offer a rude retort, as Blaise began to talk. "He probably didn't write back to you," he said, "because he's dead."  
  
Everyone in the group swiftly turned in his direction and stared at him. Harry sat up in his chair.   
  
"That's a horrible thing to say," said Pansy. "You're just saying that because you were always jealous of him."  
  
It was true that Blaise and Draco never were the best of friends. Their rivalry had started when they were both small children and had continued throughout their years in Hogwarts. Blaise had always wanted to be the star pupil in Slytherin, but had to contend with Draco being Snape's favorite.   
  
"It's true," said Blaise. "My mother went over to the manor a month ago and said that Draco was nowhere to be seen. When she asked where he was, Lucius said he died. He said Draco came down with consumption and past away."  
  
An eerie silence spread throughout the group, as everyone lowered their heads and stared at the ground with dismay. Even Millicent, who had been filled with hatred towards Draco for tarnishing the reputation of the Slytherins, looked somewhat upset. But the silence that hung over them was broken when Pansy brought her hands to her face and began to weep. No one approached or attempted to console her, as they all stood around looking awkward. But after her crying had subsided, the group decided to move along down the street.  
  
Harry's hands remained tight around the arm of his chair, causing his knuckles to grow white. His eyes were wide and filled with shock. He too had written Draco over the course of those weeks, but never received a reply. They were to meet some months ago, but Draco never showed up. But Harry never fretted; he assumed the young man was busy with other things in his life. He always hoped Draco would surprise him with an unexpected letter or visit during that summer. But those dreams were now bashed. Blaise's words then echoed in his head. Draco could not be dead, he thought to himself. Being that the Malfoy family's whereabouts was chronicled in the Daily Prophet on a continuous basis, it seemed odd that there was no story on Draco's death. Seeing as that the family was always quick to display their riches, he surely thought Narcissa and Lucius would have given their son a lavish funeral.   
  
His breathing grew more intense when he thought of the possibility of foul play being involved in the death of Draco. Surely, the blonde's demise would not have been kept so quiet unless his parents had done something to him. His mind then raced with the possibility of Lucius killing the young man. If what Goyle said was true about the bruises, it seemed to Harry that Lucius had the capacity to beat his family members - and probably even kill them. He soon felt hot tears trickle down his cheek. He lowered his head onto the table and wept. 


	11. Guess Who's Coming Over for Dinner?

Chapter 11: Guess Who's Coming Over for Dinner   
  
Harry was standing in the kitchen preparing dinner, when the phone rang. "Hello?"   
  
"May I speak to Harry?"   
  
"Speaking." Harry put the spoon of sauce in his mouth.   
  
"This is your Aunt Petunia," said the voice.   
  
Harry let out a cough as he nearly choked on the tomato sauce when he heard the name of the person on the other end of the line. What the hell is she doing calling me, he thought.  
  
"Hi" he said weakly.   
  
"Did I catch you at a bad time? You sound a little preoccupied."   
  
"No, you didn't" said Harry trying to balance the phone on the crook of his neck while he chopped onions to put in the sauce. "I'm sorry about the delay, I just didn't expect you to be calling."   
  
It had been several months since he last talked to her. The last day he had seen her was when he moved out of her house. She stood on the doorstep and watched as he drove away in the car with Sirius, while Dudley's face peered out from his bedroom window. He assumed that he would never again hear from her, and the idea did not upset to him.   
  
"I didn't think you'd want to hear from me."   
  
Well, that was true, though Harry. His life was peaceful, now that he no longer had to deal with the Dursleys.   
  
"Since I am your blood relative, I thought I'd call to see how you're doing."   
  
"I'm fine," he said quickly.   
  
"That's all I wanted to know, I guess I'll go now."   
  
Harry wanted to say more to her, but he kept quiet. All the emotional abused she bestowed on him were coming back. He pushed all the uncomfortable thoughts aside; he didn't want there to be any more uneasiness between them.   
  
The opportunity to form an amicable relationship with her was staring him in the face and he had to decide whether or not to take it.   
  
"Well, goodbye-"   
  
"Wait. Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked swiftly. He was quite shocked to hear the question come out of his mouth. He assumed that his aunt was equally taken back by the question because she remained quiet.   
  
"Are you sure?"   
  
"Yeah. You can come and see the house."   
  
Petunia did not accept Harry's invitation right away, she still had some apprehension about going to his house. "Is Mr. Black going to be there as well?"   
  
"Of course he will, this is his house after all." Harry sensed that something about his Godfather was troubling the woman. "Listen, he was wrongly accused. They dropped all the charges against him."   
  
"I know that. " She went quiet again, before saying, "Okay."   
  
"And bring Dudley." He didn't know what made him say that, he wanted to hit himself on the head for including his cousin in his dinner plans, but it was too late.   
  
"We would both like that very much."   
  
"See you tomorrow then."   
  
"Okay. And Harry."   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Thanks."   
  
  
***********   
  
  
"I'll get it." Sirius straightened up his tie and went to answer the door. Harry watched him from the kitchen, shaking his head and smiling to himself. He wondered by Sirius would bother with the tie in the first place; it was not a formal gathering.   
  
"I want them to see me as a good law abiding citizen, not some criminal" Sirius had said to him.   
  
Harry recalled the scared and intimidated way Petunia had acted when Sirius came to their house to collect him. Petunia cowered against the wall and Dudley ran upstairs to his bedroom when the man walked through their door.   
  
"Come on in". Sirius opened the door and Petunia and Dudley marched in, keeping as far away from him as possible.   
  
Harry came out of the kitchen to greet them. His cousin began to chuckle to himself when he saw the apron tied around his waist. Harry didn't think that his appearance was nearly as comical as Dudley's; he was wearing a bright red bow tie around his neck which made his large head look as if it was about to pop.   
  
"This is for you guys," said Petunia, handing Harry a large bowl of pudding.   
  
"Come on, let's go to the table and eat." Sirius directed everyone to the dining room table, where the food was awaiting them.   
  
The meal was a very tense one, no one talked and the only sound present was that of silverware banging on china and Dudley's loud chewing.   
  
Petunia was the first person to break the silence. "What have you been doing with yourself since you graduated from your witchcraft school? Are you working?"   
  
Harry looked at his aunt with astonishmen. That she acknowledged that he attended Hogwarts was a revelation to him. "I took some time off to relax a bit, get myself situated into a new routine and home. But next month I start my job with Firebolt."  
  
"Firebold? What's that?" asked his aunt.   
  
"It's Firebolt and they make brooms."   
  
Dudley looked at Harry with an amused smile on his face. "Brooms? You mean for sweeping the floor? You're gonna be a street sweeper?" He was about to laugh when his mother hit him in the ribs.   
  
Sirius stared down his nose at Dudley, giving the boy a stern look that caused him to scoot his chair closer to his mother. "No, he's not going to be cleaning streets. Firebolt makes flying brooms and Harry's been taken on to engineer them."   
  
Petunia's eyes grew wide with interest. "Oh, you fly on brooms? Wow, I didn't know that."   
  
Well, you would have known if you'd taken an interest in my life, thought Harry. "Yeah, we fly on those. But we don't fly on them all the time, they're mainly for a game called quidditch."   
  
Dudley was lifting a spoonful of food to his mouth when he stopped. "Quid what?"   
  
"Quidditch" said Harry. "It's a bit like football but it's played in the air."   
  
"Dad took me to the best football match ever last year, Aston Villa versus Manchester United. That was right before he.." Dudley put down his spoon and stared at his plate.   
  
Harry just remembered that the first anniversary of his uncle's death was just a month and a half away. Looking at his aunt and cousin's rigid faces, he began to feel sorry for them.   
  
Sirius poured some coffee in a cup and handed it to Petunia. "How are you two coping?"   
  
"We're fine, everything's fine." Petunia's eyes didn't meet Sirius' gaze.   
  
"If you need to talk or anything, you know where to reach me" said Harry.   
  
Petunia's lips, which were normally tightly pursed, curled into a slight smile. Harry thought he could detect a secret warm gleam in her eyes. "Thanks, but everything's going really well for us. We rented out your old room and Dudley got himself a job."   
  
Harry looked at his cousin, wondering which company in its right mind would hire him. "Where are you working?"   
  
"Spindell's" said Dudley quietly. "It's a cardboard factory."  
  
Petunia put her arm around Dudley's shoulders. "They're the biggest manufacturer of cardboard this side of the Thames River."   
  
Sirius and Harry exchanged glances, but Harry quickly looked away from him, too afraid he would burst into laughter.   
  
"I thought your husband had his own company" said Sirius. "How come Dudley isn't working there?"   
  
"I thought it would be best if I sold it, since I don't have much of a business mind and Dudders is too..well.....Dudley stop that!" She smacked Dudley's hand as he attempted to grab a pork chop with his bare fingers.   
  
"Sweet Pea, what does Mummy tell you about doing that? It's impolite" she said in a singsong whisper. Dudley begrudgingly grabbed a fork and speared the piece of meat.   
  
Petunia laughed nervously. "He's got quite a healthy appetite, my Dudders."   
  
This time, Harry avoided Sirius' eyes completely and turned around in his chair, hoping that no one could hear him.   
  
  
********   
  
  
"They are weird" said Sirius. "I'm surprised you turned out so normal, living in that household."   
  
"I'm surprised too" replied Harry.   
  
"And your cousin, did you watch the way he was eating? Made me feel a little sick." He was stacking all the dirty dishes in a one pile, as he cleared the table.   
  
Harry was about to collect the dirty cups, when his Godfather ushered him away. "No, I'll do this. You made the food, so I'll clean up."   
  
Sirius put his arm around Harry and directed him to the living room. "You lie down and relax." He headed back to the kitchen and began to wash the dishes.   
  
Harry's face creased into a smile. "If you insist." He sank onto the sofa and sighed with pleasure. He had finally gotten the stable family life he had always wanted. He and Sirius spent many hours on that same couch talking, sharing ideas and feelings.   
He always enjoyed when Sirius talked about his parents, telling him the trouble his mother and father had gotten into when they were young.   
  
"Hey, Harry, I found some pudding that your cousin didn't scarf down. You want some?"   
  
"No thanks." Harry curled up on the sofa and bundled a blanket around his body.   
  
After all the cleaning was done, Sirius walked up to the couch and looked down at Harry, he regretted having to wake the boy from his sleep. He knelt down on my leg and lightly touched Harry on the arm.   
  
"I'm heading off. One of my contacts has some information for me."   
  
Harry opened his eyelids half way to look at him. "When are you coming back?" he asked sleepily.   
  
"I'll be back pretty late, so just go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."   
  
Harry lay back in the couch. "Be careful, that's a rough part of town."   
  
  
***************   
  
  
Harry was sound asleep in his bed, when he heard a loud banging noise coming from the front door. Then he heard his Godfather's voice. "Harry! Harry! Come here and help me!"  
  
Harry sprung out of bed and ran into the living room. "Harry, come help me with him. I don't think I can carry him any more" said Sirius. He was carrying someone in his arms and the person appeared to be unconscious, as his arms were dangling limply onto the floor.  
  
"Harry, please hurry, he's slipping out of my arms. Come here and hold his head."   
  
As he approached Sirius, Harry noticed something on his clothing that alarmed him. "You have blood all over your shirt, are you hurt?"   
  
"No, it's not my blood."   
  
Harry walked over and placed his arm around the man, supporting his neck. They were able to carry the man to the sofa, where they gently lay him down.   
  
"Who is he" asked Harry. Sirius looked at him for a moment and then turned the other way. "Sirius, who's the guy? Is he a friend of yours?"   
  
"He's your friend."   
  
"What?" Harry turned on the lamp and looked down at the unconscious man. He nearly dropped to his knees. He was staring down at Draco. 


	12. Regaining Strength

Chapter 12: Regaining Strength  
  
Harry shivered as he stood on the small balcony, taking in large breaths of the cool air. He yawned and stretched his body, lengthening his tight and sore muscles. He closed his eyes as the orange and gold rays of morning sun shined on his face.   
  
His bare feet were getting soaked from the droplets of morning dew that collected in small puddles on the floor. Finally feeling the full impact of the winter air on his skin, he wrapped the blanket tighter around his body. His skimpy shirt and cotton boxers were not enough to keep him warm in the early hour.   
  
His body now freezing, he climbed back into the room and resumed his position in the chair next to the bed. He watched as Draco slept on his side. Harry wanted to get a good look at his face, but Draco was facing the other way. He hadn't fully seen that face since Sirius brought him home that night.   
  
He couldn't believe it when he looked down and saw Draco unconscious on the sofa, reduced to a bony shell of his former self. His clothes were tattered and torn, a pungent stench of alcohol and decay wafted from his body.  
  
Harry cried at the sight of him. His tears came out in huge waves as his body purged the heartache and sadness of the past couple of months. He was relieved that Draco was still alive, but was sadden by the state in which he now looked.   
  
Sirius had desperately tried to call him down. "Harry, it's okay." He placed his hand on Harry's shoulders. "He'll be fine, he's just a little banged up."   
  
"Why is he unconscious?"  
  
"He passed out when I put him in the car."  
  
Harry reached out to touch Draco, to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He was just inches from Draco's face, when he stopped himself from moving any closer. Harry couldn't bring himself to touch his skin, it was too much for him. He let his hand hovered over his friend for a moment before pulling away.  
  
"I know it seems a bit unreal, but he's really here with you."  
  
"Where did you find him?" Harry managed to ask, choking back his tears.   
  
"I found him in Stoke on Trent. A couple of men were beating him in an alley; he was lying on the ground as they kicked and punched him. The men ran off when they saw me. The sight of him was just horrendous. He had bloody wounds all over---"   
  
"Sirius, stop" Harry interrupted.   
  
Sirius sat on the floor next to Harry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get graphic. I know you don't want to hear that kinda stuff."   
  
He began to wipe the large tears that were falling from Harry's eyes. "I was able to heal his wounds in the car." He let his hand rest on Harry's face, stroking his skin with his fingers.  
  
"I did a spell so he won't have any scars." Sirius took his attention away from Harry and looked at Draco. "But I noticed that he had some preexisting scars already on his face. They might have been from a previous attack--"   
  
Sirius stopped, noticing the heart-wrenching look he received from Harry. "He probably got them from previous accidents. Maybe he was playing quidditch and got hurt. Yeah, I think that's all it was."  
  
He moved Draco's hair away, revealing the right side of his face. As the light shined on Draco's face, revealing the myriad of wounds and marks on his skin, Harry flinched and quickly looked away.   
  
"I tried get rid of them, but they wouldn't come off" said Sirius. He wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him against his body. "I'm sure someone at the Ministry might know a spell that could get rid of them."  
  
While Harry cried on Sirius' shoulder, Draco awoke from his slumber. "What's going on?" he slurred, apparently his liquor-induced euphoria had not worn off.   
  
Harry stared at him with wide eyes, watching as he stood up from the couch and walked around the living room, stumbling on his own feet in the process.   
  
He and Sirius both decided that Draco should have a bath and that Harry should be the one to get him clean. Harry placed his arms around Draco's waist and led him upstairs to the bathroom, holding him tight so he wouldn't fall down the steps.   
  
As Harry lovingly undressed him, Draco muttered incoherent nonsense and waved his arms erratically in the air. As his shirt was being removed, Draco held Harry's face in his dirt covered hands and stared at him with half closed and hazy eyes.   
  
"I know you," he slurred.   
  
Harry smiled. "Yes, I'm Harry."   
  
"Harry" Draco said, before slapping Harry's shoulder. After that he was quiet, half asleep.   
  
Now that Draco had settled down, Harry was able to get him out of his thread worn rags. When he had removed all of Draco's clothes, Harry drew a deep breath as he stared at his naked body. His skin was almost white, and the he looked thinner than before, not his usual robust self. There was a film of dirt that covered his body.   
  
Under the bright lights, he was able to closely examine the multitude of scars weaving their way in and out of Draco's face. He felt saddened for his friend, for all the pain he must have endured.   
  
Harry placed him in the warm tub and bathed him, running the sponge gently against his skin. Draco began to look more like his old self once he was clean and dressed in a pair of Harry's pajamas.   
  
Harry placed Draco in the spare bed, where he immediately fell asleep. He pulled a chair next to the bed and watched him sleep, marveling at how small and fragile he looked as he lay in the bed. The moonlight from the nearby window provided Harry with enough illumination to watch Draco through the night.   
  
That morning, Harry was not tired, the excitement of talking to Draco kept him wide awake. He waited patiently until Draco awoke, unable to believe that they would be face to face once more after being separated for nearly two years. A smile spread on his face as Draco began to stir in the bed.   
  
Draco's eyes opened slowly. He blinked several times as he looked around the room and then looked down to examined the pajamas that he was wearing. He began to scratch his head. "Where the fuck am I?"   
  
"You're at my house."   
  
Draco jumped back when he heard the voice, realizing that he was not alone in the dark room. He leaned to his right and blinked several times, trying to see the figure sitting in the chair. "Harry?"   
  
"Yeah." Harry smiled brightly. "Sirius found you last night and brought you back here."   
  
Draco tried to sit up on the bed. "Oh, my head" he said rubbing his forehead and falling back into the pillows.   
  
Harry got up from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. "You were a bit drunk last night, that's why your head hurts." He looked at Draco.   
  
Draco looked back at him, sneaking quick peeks at him through his long hair. As he continued to stare at Harry, his senses began to come back to him. A look of shock soon washed over him as he inched away from Harry. Draco brought his hand up to his face, his fingers grazing his scars. He quickly glanced back at Harry and muttered something under his breath.   
  
Harry strained to hear what he was saying. "What did you say?"   
  
"Get out."   
  
Harry obeyed his friend and left the room.   
  
  
  
**************  
  
  
Harry sat in the chair staring at the back of Draco's head, when he heard a creaking noise and turned to see Sirius walking into the room.   
  
"I'm going, but I'll give you a ring to see how Draco is doing okay?"   
  
Harry didn't respond, he just nodded his head.   
  
Sirius slowly approached him. "My God boy, you look like hell. You really should get some sleep."   
  
Harry's eyes were extremely swollen and bloodshot, deep black circles forming around them. His once sparkling and brilliant green eyes were now cloudy. The stubble on his face making him look older than his 18 years.   
  
"You should get some rest or else I'll have to nurse you back to health too." He stroked Harry's head, straightening his hair. "You really shouldn't be sleeping in that chair, it doesn't look very comfortable."  
  
Harry looked up at him. "I didn't sleep in it." His voice was scratchy and harsh, like a man who had been out all night screaming at the top of his lungs.  
  
"Harry, please, you're really starting to worry me. What you're doing is not healthy." He grabbed Harry's hands. "Let's get you to bed before you kill yourself" he said, pulling Harry out of the chair.   
  
"Let me go."   
  
Sirius slowly released him back into the chair and looked at him. "This isn't good for you." There was a sense of extreme frustration on his face. "You haven't been eating or sleeping. You can't survive on a diet of coffee. What you're doing is complete madness."   
  
Sirius kneeled down next to him and put his arm around his shoulders. "Draco will be fine. He just needed a good meal, a bath and some rest. He's getting that now. You can relax, he's not going to die or anything."  
  
"I know you think what I'm doing is nuts, but I have to do this."   
  
"I don't think you're nuts, it's just a bit extreme."   
  
"But it's the only way I get to see him." Tears began to glisten in Harry's eyes. "He stays in here all day and whenever I try to come in, he tells me to get out. He doesn't want me around him."   
  
"But I've seen you bring him his dinner."   
  
"He never lets me in the room, so I've had to put the tray outside the door and he retrieves it himself. When he's finished, he just puts the tray back in the hall."   
  
Harry's eyes began to burn as the tears streamed down his face. "I was so excited when you first brought him home. I was happy that I was finally seeing him after all this time."  
  
He stared at his godfather, his eyes puffy and red. "I don't know what I expected him to do when he first saw me. I guess I imagined that he would wake up and jump into my arms."   
  
"I know that this is tough for you" began Sirius, " but try to put yourself in his shoes. Imagine waking up in a strange house after such a violent night."   
  
His eyes were soft and enduring as he looked at his Godson. He hated to see him so upset. "And from what you've told me about him, he seems to be a proud lad. I'm suspecting that it must be awkward for him to be have you see him in such a weakened state."   
  
"But I love him, it doesn't matter to me what he looks like." Harry placed his hands over his face. "Its amazing how you never run out of tears" he laughed. He talked through his fingers, his voice sounding muffled. "You'd think I would have exhausted my tear ducts these past couple of weeks."  
  
Sirius was only half listening to him, having been distracted by the sight of Draco moving in the bed. He moved away from Harry and leaned towards the bed. A smile spread on his lips when he saw Draco. "You should tell Draco how much you care about him."  
  
"How will I be able to do that when he spends all day hiding in here?" asked Harry.  
  
"I'm sure you will find a way." Sirius' eyes never left the boy in the bed. "He needs to know that it was you who bathed him the first night he was here, you were the one who washed and scrubbed him clean. And make sure you tell him how you cleaned after him, when he vomited on himself."  
  
Harry looked up at him with a puzzled look on his face. "I can't tell him that, it'll embarrass him."   
  
Sirius' smile got wider as he looked at Harry. "I guess that's what he needs." He stood over Harry and gave him a kiss on the head. "I want you to cheer up, because I have a feeling that today's going to be different."   
  
"How do you know?"   
  
"Just a guess." He winked at Harry as he walked out the door.   
  
  
*********  
  
When Sirius left the house, Harry stayed in the same chair watching and waiting. As he heard Sirius drive off in the car, Harry continued to stare at Draco. He was startled when Draco rolled over on the bed, and stared at him with wide eyes.   
  
"Do you want me to leave?" asked Harry, realizing that Draco hadn't chased him out of the room yet.   
  
Draco looked away. "You can stay if you want."   
  
Harry stayed frozen; he didn't know what was going on. Now that he was not being kicked out of the room, he didn't know what to say to Draco.   
  
"I went shopping yesterday and I bought you some clothes. I know you must hate having to wear my things." He gazed up and down at the pajamas draping Draco's body. He had to admit that the other boy looked out of place wearing flannel.  
  
Harry got up from the chair slowly, hearing his joints creak in the process. He approached the end of the bed, where a pile of black clothes were neatly folded.  
  
"I hope these are all right," he said, holding up the garments. "I got you some silk boxers, I know you like those." He smiled at Draco, looking for some signs of reassurance and agreement from him. Draco just stared up at him with a blank expression on his face.   
  
Harry looked down at the clothes. "I also got you that shampoo you like. I put it in the bathroom. And there's plenty of hot water, if you want to take your shower now. I already showered last night."  
  
Harry played with the buttons on the silk shirt. "I'm going to be making some breakfast, do you think you'll be joining me?"   
  
"Okay, just let me shower first."   
  
Harry watched as Draco got up from the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. As his fingers went to work on the buttons, Harry could see the ivory skin that lay underneath. Draco was now muscular and lean, no longer the skinny waif of several weeks ago.   
  
Harry stood there, enjoying the sight, clearly mesmerized as he stared down the length of Draco's chest. He noticed that the pajama pants hung low on Draco's body, exposing his hipbone and a hint of curly blond hair.   
  
Draco was about to remove his pants when he looked up and saw Harry watching him. "Do you mind leaving while I get undressed?"   
  
"No, not at all" said Harry, but he made no attempts to go to the door. His eyes stayed glued on the festival of flesh that stood before him; it was too delicious a site to avoid. He continued looking at Draco's chest with breathless admiration and an overwhelming desire to touch that skin, run his fingers along the edge of the pants and further below.   
  
"Harry."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I thought you were going to leave."  
  
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'll just go down and make the breakfast."   
  
  
  
************  
  
  
Harry was in good spirits as he cooked breakfast, humming to himself as he stirred the eggs in the bowl. Harry's heart was beating tremendously fast, the butterflies still whirling around in his stomach.   
  
He was busy setting the table when he heard Draco clear his throat in front of him. He looked up to find the blond standing in the archway, surveying the small house; that was the first time he had been downstairs since his arrival.   
  
Harry stood awestruck as he looked at Draco. He was lean and tall, his hair was now clean and glistening. The new clothes draped his body perfectly.   
  
"Sit down" said Harry slowly. In his excited state, he put his hand on Draco's back, leading him to the table. When Draco was seated, Harry closed his eyes, letting his hand linger on his back.   
  
As Harry sat at the table, he took great measure to not look at Draco. He soon abandoned that tactic and began to blatantly stare at the other boy, observing how he had changed over the past couple of weeks. Draco's gray eyes were more alert and the color had even come back to his skin, giving it a creamy and healthy complexion.   
  
His long hair was shiny and Harry could detect the sent of the shampoo that he purchased for him. His gaze traveled down to Draco's chest, enjoying the way the silk shirt lay on his shoulders.   
  
"You look nice" he heard himself say, regretting the sound of his syrupy lovesick voice. He hoped that Draco had not noticed.   
  
Draco looked up at him. "Thanks" he said quietly.   
  
Harry took the opportunity to look him in the face. He stared at his scars until Draco brushed his fingers through his hair, combing his long, silvery blond strands over his face.   
  
"Sirius is going to get some medicine to help you get rid of those." He sipped his coffee as he watched Draco eat. He grew disappointed that the other boy did had not touched much of the food on the table, preferring to nibble on a humble piece of toast.  
  
"Don't you like the food?" asked Harry.  
  
"It's good, but I'm not very hungry. I'm going to go back upstairs, I'm starting to get a headache." He got up from the table and started to head up the stairs. Harry instantly followed him up the winding staircase.   
  
Draco stood in front of the door with his hand on the doorknob. He hesitated for a moment and then turned to Harry, who was leaning against the wall watching him. "I wanted to say that I'm s----" He looked down at his feet. "That I regret chasing you away like I did."  
  
Harry looked up at him.  
  
"It was nice how you would watch me sleep, it was comforting." Draco's voice was low, almost a whisper.   
  
"How did you know?" asked Harry. Draco did not answer him.   
  
Silence loomed between them one more, until Draco asked, "You got contacts?"   
  
"Yeah. They were really Sirius' idea."   
  
Harry continued to look Draco, at his lips, his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to taste those lips once more. He didn't know what made him do it, but he soon found himself walking towards Draco.   
  
Draco did not move away or try to escape; he stood with his back against the door, letting Harry step within inches of his own body. They stared at one another, the heat from their bodies mixing and mingling in the small space they was between them. Harry reached forward and touched Draco's fingers, feeling his heart jumped as he touched that scorched skin.  
  
He leaned closer to Draco, half expecting the other boy to push him away. When the push did not come, Harry took it as an invitation to move closer to him. His breath came out in jagged spasms as was now standing nose to nose with Draco.   
  
He wanted desperately to attack those lips, those lips that had grown rich with a rosy color during the past couple of days. But something in Draco's eyes told him that tenderness was the right method. Draco had already faced many injuries, and Harry didn't want to inflict any more pain on him.   
  
Harry leaned forward, and kissed him. Draco's lips were soft, like he had always known them to be. It wasn't until that moment, that Harry finally realized how much had missed the feel of Draco's body.   
  
He ran his fingers in Draco's hair, allowing them to get tangled in his long, baby fine locks.   
  
Feeling himself begin to tremble, Harry pressed harder into Draco's body. He took Draco's face into his hands as he began to suck on Draco's lower lip. He had tried to be gentle as first, but the sensation of being with Draco was starting to over-excite him.   
  
He felt the pleasure of their embrace travel to his groin, stiffening him. He pressed his pelvis against Draco's hips, letting the other boy feel his erection and let a moan escape from his lips as he felt Draco's hips respond to his movements.  
  
As he began to move his mouth against Draco's, trying to deepen the kiss, Draco turned his head to the side. "My head's throbbing." He reached behind him and opened the door. "Thanks for the breakfast" he said, as he shut the door in Harry's face. 


	13. Reconnecting

Chapter 13: Reconnecting  
  
  
"Good morning" said Harry, placing the tray down on the night stand. He went over to the window and drew back the curtains allowing the bright sunlight to wash over the room.   
  
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" said Draco. He placed his arm over his face as the bright beams of yellow and red hit his face. "I was trying to sleep."   
  
"Well, it's time for you to get up."   
  
Draco rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up on the bed. Harry removed the tray from the stand and placed it on his lap. "Here, eat up." He pulled the napkin from the tray and arranged it in Draco's lap. "I know how much you like strawberries." Harry smiled to himself, reminiscing of past intimate encounter that involved the berry.   
  
"You seem to be in good spirits."   
  
"Yes, you could say that."   
  
Harry pulled the chair next to the bed and leaned forward to watch Draco eat. Unlike the previous morning when he picked at his food, Draco indulged his taste buds and ravished the bowl of fruit. He noticed how Draco seemed more relaxed, not bothering to cover his face with his hair, his scars easily seen.   
  
"How did you get those?" Harry was mesmerized by the scars and let his hand drift to the boy's face.   
  
"My dad" said Draco nonchalantly.   
  
"Your father did that to you?"   
  
"Yes." Draco moved the bowl away and moved closer to Harry. "See this scar here" he asked, pointing to a long wound that extended from his ear to the corner of his mouth, "I got that one when he back handed me." Harry's fingers traced the length of the scar.   
  
"He accused me of communicating with you. I told him that he was being stupid and that's when he hit me." Draco laughed to himself. "I nearly flew in the air."   
  
Harry frowned. "That's not funny."   
  
Draco looked at Harry. "It's not big deal."   
  
Harry continued run his fingers across Draco's skin. "It looks like he stabbed you."   
  
"He was wearing his ring when he hit me and my face got sliced." Draco picked up the bowl and continued to eat.   
  
Harry put his finger on a scar just below his eye. "What about this mark over here?"   
  
"That's from when he punched me" said Draco, speaking as if he had memorized all the scars on his face. "I don't know what I was doing, but I know it made him angry."   
  
"And this one?" asked Harry.   
  
"Oh, that one." Draco pushed Harry's hand away and placed his finger over the scar on his chin. "I'm really proud of this one."   
  
"That's a really sadistic thing to say. How can you be proud of the fact that your father hurt you?"   
  
"That's not what I was trying to say. I'm not happy that my father hit me. This scar just represents the day I actually stood up to him." Draco leaned towards Harry. "We fought in my bedroom." He looked at Harry for some sort of congratulatory reaction.   
  
"Harry, that was the first time I actually tried to defend myself against him. He was about to hit me, when I block his punch. We both landed on my bed and were wrestling around like maniacs. This scar here was the only thing he was able to do to me."   
  
Draco took a deep breath and looked past Harry's shoulder. "He would have done some real damage to me, but I prevented him. I think he would have killed me that day." He looked back at Harry, who still had a grave expression on his face. "What's wrong with you?"   
  
"How could your father do that to you?"   
  
"I guess it's just part of being a Malfoy. His father was strict with him."   
  
"Did your father beat you all the time like that?"   
  
"Not all the time. Just when he wanted to get his point across." Draco grabbed a spoon from the tray and looked at his reflection. "He put a spell on them."   
  
"A spell on what?"   
  
"My scars. He put a spell on them so they won't go away. He wanted these scars to be a reminder to me. He said that every time I looked at my face, I was to be reminded how strong he was, how he dominated me."   
  
He threw the spoon back down on the tray. "I don't want to talk about them anymore" he said touching his face. "Let's talk about something else. How was your graduation?"   
  
"Oh, it was fun. I'm really gonna miss that place. The ceremony was really spectacular, Dumbledore really put on a show for all the parents. I can't get Petunia and Dudley's face out of my head." A smile spread on his face. "They looked so petrified, I think they thought everyone would cast a spell on them."   
  
Harry looked at Draco, who looked placid. "I bet you're the ceremony at Durmstrang must have been exciting."   
  
"Yeah" muttered Draco.   
  
"I'm so happy to hear you say that. For a long time, I heard rumors that you never attended Durmstrang, but I'm glad to hear otherwise."   
  
Draco cleared his throat. He wanted to redirect the conversation off of himself. "Did you have a party after your ceremony?"   
  
"Yes, we all went to the Weasleys for a little celebration."   
  
"The Weasleys can afford something like that?"   
  
"Draco." Harry hit him on the elbow. "They're better off now that the twins' store is up and running."   
  
"When did you start living with Sirius?"  
  
"After I graduated. Dumbledore said it was finally safe for me to leave the Dursleys, since Voldemort was dead."   
  
"It's a nice little place he has here." Draco looked around the room.   
  
"Thanks. I know it's nothing like the palace you lived in, but we like it. Sirius has been amazing; he's lived such a colorful life. We've grown so close over the past couple of months."   
  
Harry continued to talk, not aware that Draco's mind drifted elsewhere. "He's become like a father to me."   
  
"That's nice to hear." Draco's voice was subdued, lacking any emotion.   
  
"Are you okay?"   
  
"No, I'm not. I haven't been forthcoming with you." Draco closed his eyes. "I never went to Durmstrang."   
  
"You didn't?"   
  
"No. My parents continued to get me tutored at home, that way they could keep an eye on me and make sure I didn't communicate with---"   
  
"Me?"   
  
Draco looked away for a moment before talking. "My father paid for one of the professors from Durmstrang to teach me in the Dark Arts. But that ended in January of this year."   
  
"What happened after January?" Draco did not answer. "Draco?"   
  
"I got kicked out of the house."   
  
"They threw you out? But.where did you go? Did you stay with relatives, friends?"   
  
"I didn't stay with anyone. I slept in some abandoned buildings that I found in London."   
  
Harry grabbed Draco's hand. "Draco, I had no idea."   
  
Draco pulled away from him. "Don't do that."   
  
"Do what?"   
  
"Feel sorry for me. Anyway, it wasn't all that bad. I met a lot of interesting people. Of course, a lot of these people I hope I never see again, but they were all interesting none the less."   
  
Harry scrunched his eyebrows. "How did you continue your education?"   
  
He looked away from Harry. "I didn't. My education stopped once I was thrown out." He tightly closed his eyes and exhaled. "I never graduated." Draco watched as Harry opened his mouth slightly.   
  
Harry sat on the edge of his chair, thousands of thoughts running through his mind. "Were you scared on your own?"   
  
"Not really. It was just the hunger that got to me. That and looking like hell. God, it feels so nice to be clean and smell good for once."   
  
He leaned back against the headboard. "It was actually nice being on my one; no one to tell me what to do. And it was great to be anonymous for a change. For once in my life, I was my own person, and not `Lucius' son.'"   
  
Draco looked over at Harry, who seemed intrigued by what he had to say. "I was anonymous until I ran into some old school friends of mine. They were the men that were beating...that were with me the night Sirius brought me here. Those bastards used to follow me around school like lost puppies."   
  
Seeing the distraught look on Harry's face, Draco replied, "But even those guys couldn't keep me down. I'm getting back to old beautiful self."   
  
Harry managed a faint smile. "Didn't your parents leave you with anything?"   
  
"Yeah, my mum saved up some money for me."   
  
"Really? That's great news." Harry's temporary happiness began to fade. "Wait a minute. If you have money, why did you live on the streets?"   
  
"It's in a vault at Gringotts and I was always afraid to go there. Didn't want to run into my father or any of his cronies." He looked at Harry. "They assume I'm dead and if they saw me walking around Diagon Alley, they would try to make sure that I remained dead."   
  
For the first time, Harry sensed some fear in Draco's eyes, but Draco turned away before he could decipher the look. Harry reached over and grabbed his hand. "I can go with you. And Sirius is not working tomorrow, so he could accompany us to Gringotts. No one will mess with you if Sirius is around."   
  
"Thanks. You and your Godfather have really..I don't know, gracious." He drew his attention back to his food and popped another strawberry into his mouth.   
  
Harry still kept a firm grip on Draco's hand and grew surprised when he didn't pull away. He soon felt Draco's fingers begin to caress him, as his thumb moved in a circular motion against his skin.   
  
Harry stared at him, watching as he put the strawberry in his mouth. The juice trickled on his lips. He doesn't know what made him do it, but he soon found himself leaning forward and kissing those lips.   
  
Draco responded to his kiss, allowing Harry to suck the sweet juice off his skin. Harry's hands grabbed Draco by the shoulders as their kiss deepened. His hands moved to the side of Draco's face, holding him in place just in case he decided to turn his head. They were involved whole-heartedly in their embrace when they heard Sirius clear his throat.   
  
"Excuse me" said Sirius.   
  
Started by his presence, Harry instantly pulled away from Draco and jumped back in his chair. His face was enflamed; he could feel his cheeks start to burn. Draco merely rested his head against the headboard, licking his lips and savoring the taste of Harry's mouth.   
  
"Harry, you want me to give you a lift?" asked Sirius, trying to hide the smile on his face.   
  
Harry avoided his Godfather's eyes. "Yes."   
  
Draco grabbed his hand, as he was about to get up. "Where are you going?"   
  
"I'm going to Hermione's college. She said she had a spell that can get rid of the scars."   
  
"You won't be long, will you?" He felt a tingle of excitement travel throughout his body as Draco began to stroke his hand. "No, I won't stay long." He and Draco stared at each other again. Harry was smiling, when he looked up and noticed Sirius watching them. He immediately lowered his gaze. 


	14. Harry's Turn

Chapter 14: Harry's Turn  
  
  
  
"It's about time you got back." Draco sat on the bed and watched as Harry walked into the room. "So, did our good friend the Mudblood get the potion?"   
  
"Draco."   
  
"What? I'm just kidding."   
  
"You really shouldn't call her stuff like that. Especially considering what she's done for you." Harry took off his jacket and went to his chair.   
  
He opened his hand to reveal a small bottle. "It's in here. All you have to do is rub some of it on your face and you'll be good as new." He handed it to Draco.   
  
Draco stared at the bottle before his face tensed. "Wait a minute. You didn't tell her that the medicine was for me, did you?"   
  
"I had to. They know it's not for me. They kept asking me questions, so I had to confess."  
  
"Who's `they?'"   
  
"I forgot to tell you that Hermione is staying over at Ron's place for awhile. So, of course he was there."   
  
Draco slammed the container down on the nightstand. "Great! Ron knows too?"   
  
"Draco, what's the big deal?"   
  
"The big deal is that he hates me. He's probably going to get the Death Eaters as we speak, handing out maps to the house."   
  
"Ron wouldn't do that."   
  
"I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."   
  
"He's my best friend. I know he wouldn't do anything that would upset me. Anyway, you should have seen the expression on their faces when I mentioned your name. They thought you were dead. They had so many questions about you; where you've been and such."   
  
"You didn't tell them about what we discussed earlier, did you?"   
  
"You mean about you getting kicked out?"   
  
"Yes. That and other things." Harry remained quiet. "Please tell me you didn't say anything to them. What I shared with you was private and I don't want other people to know about it. If you told them how Sirius found me, I'll kill you."   
  
"Don't worry. I didn't tell them the truth."   
  
"What did you tell them, then?"   
  
"I said I met up with you while shopping on Bond Street."   
  
Draco put his hand over his mouth as he began to laugh. "You shopping on Bond Street? Have you ever been there? I don't think they have thrift shops."   
  
"Be quiet. Anyway, I told them we bumped into each other and that you've been staying with us ever since." He looked down at his shirt. "I don't buy my clothes at the thrift shop."   
  
"Forget about that. What did you say happened to me?"   
  
"Told them you went to Durmstrang and that you got the scars when a classmate hexed you during a dueling match."   
  
"I got hexed? Why'd you have to say something stupid like that? Why couldn't I have gotten hurt doing something like playing quidditch?"   
  
"Because quidditch scars can be removed."   
  
"But---"   
  
"Get over it, will you?"   
  
Draco leaned towards him. "What else did you say to them? Did you tell them I was the school's star seeker and my team never lost."   
  
"No."   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"From the simple fact that I wanted it to sound realistic."   
  
"Oh, shut up."   
  
"But I did tell them that you were Head Boy," said Harry.   
  
"Head Boy? That's great. I can't wait to see Weasel again, so I can rub it in his face."   
  
"Please don't."   
  
"Why not? He'd do the same to me."   
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "I told them those rumors about you being dead were made up by some classmates who were jealous of you."   
  
"As well they should be. Now, what did you say I'm doing at the moment."   
  
"You're taking a year long sabbatical before you decide what to do with your life. Traveling around Europe, seeing the sights. That sort of thing."   
  
"Excellent. Thanks for building me up like that."   
  
"No problem," said Harry slowly.   
  
"Do you think they believed you?"   
  
"Oh course they did."   
  
A satisfied grin on his face, Draco picked up the vile and read the instructions that Hermione had attached on the container. Harry, meanwhile, looked down at his feet as he recalled his conversation with Ron earlier that day.   
  
He and Ron had remained quiet when Hermione left the room to get the potion, each eyeing the other from opposite ends of the small living room.   
  
Both were listening to Hermione's footsteps in the next room, when Harry broke the silence. "This is a nice little flat you've got here."   
  
"Thanks," mumbled Ron.   
  
"Does Hermione stay over every weekend?"   
  
"Only when she's got enough time to travel up here."   
  
Harry watched as Ron picked at the loose thread on his shirt. "You haven't really said much to me," he began. "We haven't seen each other in a month. I thought you'd be happy to see me again, but I guess I was wrong."   
  
"I am happy to see you. It's just that you and Hermione started talking about something that didn't interest me."   
  
"Something? Draco's a person, not a thing. He has feelings just like you and me."   
  
Ron snorted loudly. "And you forgot to say, `If you cut him, does he not bleed?'"   
  
"You wouldn't have this attitude towards him if you knew what he'd been through. He's really suffered a lot."   
  
"Suffered? His family's rich and he can afford to go on holiday for an entire year. I bet he's really suffering. I, on the other hand, must do slave labor for my brothers."   
  
Harry got up from his chair and sat next to Ron. "What I told you and Hermione was a lie. He's had it rough."   
  
He placed his hand on Ron's shoulder. "I'm going to tell you the truth, but I need you to promise never to mention it to anyone. Not even Hermione. And you better not open your mouth to Draco. If he ever found out, he'd have a fit."   
  
"I bet. The little git was always very theatrical."   
  
"Ron, do you promise?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"His parents threw him out of the house. He's been living on the streets all alone."   
  
Harry watched as Ron began to show some interest. He hesitated before revealing more information. "He didn't even get to finish his education."   
  
"Oh," said Ron, before growing quiet again. Harry assumed his friend's reaction would be the closest thing to sympathy that he would ever show towards Draco.   
  
"Harry." Harry rapidly blinked as Draco waved his hand in his face.   
  
"Were you spacing out?" asked Draco.   
  
"Yeah. Something like that."   
  
"These instructions are too complicated. I have to stand on my head and recite some nonsense. I'll do it later." He put the bottle back on the small table and leaned back against the wall to watch Harry. "Thanks for not telling them the truth."   
  
"You're welcome," Harry said uneasily.   
  
"Hey, I've never seen that before." Draco reached over and grabbed the chain that was dangling around Harry's neck. "Where did you get this from?"   
  
"It was a birthday present."   
  
"Pretty gaudy gift if you ask me."   
  
"Don't say that. She meant well when she bought it."   
  
"She? You got it from a girl?" Draco immediately let the chain fall back on Harry's neck. "Who was this girl?"   
  
"Just someone from school who had a bit of a crush on me. You didn't know her."   
  
Draco folded his arms tightly against his chest and looked away. "How come you wear that thing, but I haven't see the watch I got you?"   
  
"I keep that in my room, in a little box that has a lock on it. I'm afraid I might lose it. I once had a panic attack when I thought I left it in a restaurant."   
  
Draco looked back at that chain around Harry's neck. "The girl who got you that thing, did you like her?"   
  
"I thought she was okay. She was really nice." Harry unhooked the chain and placed it on the nightstand. "If you want me to start wearing the watch you got me, I will."   
  
He watched as Draco shook his head. Harry hesitated for a moment. "Did you ever date anyone while we were separated?"   
  
"Like who?"   
  
"I don't know. You're a good-looking guy. I'm sure you could get anyone you wanted."   
  
"Like the house-elves at the manor? Or the tarts and drugs users on the streets?" scoffed Draco. "Not a very tempting array of options, if you ask me. Anyway, I wasn't looking for anyone else."   
  
"But didn't you get lonely?"   
  
"Yeah. But doesn't everyone get lonely? And like I said before, I didn't want anyone else." Draco gave him a penetrating stare. "Did you get together with someone?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Not even your little secret admirer?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Then what are you on about?"   
  
"I just don't want you to feel like you have to keep things from me."   
  
"I'm not keeping anything from you. I didn't hook up with anyone cause I didn't feel the need to. I still thought we'd see each other again. Anyway, who would want me when I looked and smelled like shit? But now that I'm beautiful again, you never know."   
  
Draco laughed. Seeing that Harry remained emotionless, he grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.   
  
Draco's touched relaxed Harry, as he soon began to smile. "Do you think you'll be sticking around?"   
  
"I don't know," replied Draco. "I was thinking about getting a flat in London. Knowing my mother, I'm pretty sure she saved up a gold mine for me. I could probably get a place in Chelsea. And if you're nice to me, I'll even let you visit."   
  
"I thought you'd be staying with us for a little while longer."   
  
"No offense, but it's really boring here. There's nothing to do. I need to be around big lights, shops, and clubs. I don't think I can take any more of suburban life. And I don't think I want to outstay my welcome at your Godfather's house."   
  
"Sirius really likes you. He was telling me that you could stay as long as you want. He cares about your well being."   
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Really?"   
  
"Yeah. I guess he can see that I really care about you." He watched as a slight smile formed on Draco's face.   
  
"Speaking of Sirius, when's he getting back?"   
  
"Late. Why?"   
  
"I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't be interrupting us again." He began to eye Harry's body. "We never did get to see where that kiss would lead." The smile on his face got brighter. "What the hell are you waiting for? Get over here."   
  
Harry got up from his chair and lay on the bed next to Draco. They smiled at one another as they looked into each other's eyes. Harry leaned forward and kissed him.   
  
The kiss was slow and sensual as he slid his tongue along Draco's mouth to build arousal. Harry finally wrapped his lips around him entirely and began to suck, applying gentle pressure. As their kissing intensified, their mouths opened, tongues reintroduced to each other.   
  
They remained side by side, holding each other as their hands ran up and down the other's body. Harry cupped Draco's buttocks in his hands, pushing him close. He moved his hips forward, grinding his erection against the other boy.   
  
Harry soon felt fingers inside his boxes, groping and exploring. He moaned against Draco's mouth as the fingers began to tug and pull at him.   
  
"Draco stop or else I'll finish." Draco released his grip.   
  
Draco lay back on the bed and stared up at him. This was normally the time he would start removing both of their clothes, thought Harry. But Draco remained inactive.   
  
Taking it upon himself to initiate the action, Harry reached down and began to unbutton Draco's shirt. His excitement grew as he saw more and more of that skin that had enticed him the previous day. When he had gotten his shirt off, he ran his hands up and down Draco's skin.   
  
He bent down and began to trace the area around Draco's nipples with his tongue before clamping down onto the skin. He wondered if nibbling the area would have the same effect on Draco as it had with Ginny. His question was answered when Draco began to arch towards him.   
  
Harry trailed kisses down Draco's chest and stomach. With trembling hands, he undid Draco's pants and slid them down his body. After throwing the pants on the floor, Harry returned to gaze down at the body before him, his stare focused on that groin.   
  
He'd seen Draco in an excited state before, but he rarely got the chance or nerve to fully examine the sight. But now that Draco was being so passive, he got the opportunity to observe the color, width, grandness and shape of him.   
  
As he slowly wrapped his fingers around him, he looked up to see Draco's face; the other boy had his eyes closed. Harry began moving his hand up and down, finding courage to tighten his grip and to further explore Draco's body. He soon found Draco moving his body towards him, writhing under his caress.   
  
Having brought Draco to the brink of orgasm several times, Harry got up from the bed and undressed himself. Sitting back down, he awaited instructions from the other boy. Draco remained quiet, his breathing coming out in gasps.   
  
Harry recalled the times they had made love and decided to duplicate Draco's actions and positioned himself over the other boy. As they proceeded, Harry noticed that his movements and thrusting was not as smooth and concise as Draco's. But looking down at Draco's parted mouth and half closed eyes, he didn't think his partner cared too much about his lack of technique.   
  
The feeling was almost too much for him, as he found himself rushing towards his grand climax. He slowed himself down, wanting to make his encounter with Draco last as long as possible.   
  
However, he was soon encouraged to adopt a quicker pace when he felt Draco's hands on his back, pushing him down. He watched as Draco arched his body off the mattress to meet him.   
  
Draco wrapped his arms around his neck, crying into his ear as he came. Harry soon felt his own body tighten as he exploded, his body trembling uncontrollably as the spasms of pleasure rushed through him.   
  
His body still moist, Harry bent down and kissed him, devouring the salty taste of perspiration on Draco's lips. Wiping the sweat off the other boy's brow, he asked, "Was I good?"   
  
"Yes, very much so," Draco replied.   
  
Harry began to laugh. "I can't believe I lasted that long. I thought I was going to lose it at any moment. I guess I don't have the kind of control that you have."   
  
"You just need some more practice."   
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "And you've had tons of practice? I thought you said you didn't get together with anyone while we were apart."   
  
"Yeah. But that doesn't mean I didn't have a social life before I started dating you."   
  
"I can just imagine. From the stories Pansy used to tell everyone, you're quite an experienced lad."   
  
Draco smiled. "Anyway, I think you'll have a little bit more control during the second round."   
  
"Round two? I can barely move. I'm so tired."   
  
"I'm not. I feel rejuvenated and ready to go."   
  
"That's because I was doing all the work." Harry rested his head on Draco's chest, hearing the steady thumping of his heart.   
  
Draco stroke his head, getting his fingers caught in his moist black hair. "I was thinking. Maybe you can come live with me when I get my own place."   
  
Harry lifted his head. "Really?"   
  
"Yeah. Since I don't have my house-elves anymore, I could really use someone to cook and clean for me. And you seem to be so good at it."   
  
Harry took Draco's nipple between his forefinger and thumb and twisted. "Ouch. I'm just kidding."   
  
He paused, staring up at Harry's face. "I thought if you lived in London, you'd be closer to the Firebolt corporation. You wouldn't have a long commute."   
  
Draco nervously scratched his head. "I would also like to have you around. Keep me company. I've spent almost a year on my own and I didn't like it. I don't want to be by myself anymore."   
  
He took a deep breath. "And I guess I have feelings for you." He reached up and touched Harry's face. "I wanna say more, but it's a bit awkward for me."   
  
"It's okay," said Harry. He leaned down and kissed Draco again. He lifted his head. "I think I'm ready for round two."   
  
"Took you long enough." Draco placed his hand behind Harry's head, pushing him down and capturing his lips.   
  
  
The End. 


End file.
